The Fallen
by If-Only-I-Could-Fall
Summary: When Clary's best-friend, Jace Herondale, decides that it is a good idea to form a band, she is dragged into a battle of idiocy and hormonal teenage boys. Can she survive, or will stupidity be the cause of her demise? (from the story) 'Well, you could be in the band.' 'What would I play! I can't even play the triangle without causing bodily harm to the bystanders.'
1. Chapter 1

_Clary POV_

"You're doing _what?"_ I ask incredulously, still not comprehending what my best-friend has just told me. Jace grins at me with childish excitement, before looking around the small room that our group of friends has gathered in.

"We're starting a band. And _you,_" he pauses to point at me. "are going to be a part of it." He finishes off with a mischievous smirk. I rapidly shake my head and stand up to start pacing across the small space that is in front of my bed.

"No." I state, my tone firm and final. Sadly though, with Jace, I never get to have the last word. _On anything._

. . .

Shall I explain? I think that I shall.

Jace and I have been best-friends ever since he moved into my apartment building when we were both 10. He had been recently adopted by the Lightwood's, so he was really closed off for a while. Eventually though, I got him to open up with my 'kind words'.

_(Flashback)_

"_Suck it up. Be a man. I'm getting tired of your constant whining." I said unkindly to the blonde-haired boy in front of me. He startles up from his bed and glares at me, sniffling slightly and wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt._

"_H-how'd you get into my room? Who are you?" he demands, walking around his bed and standing in front of me. I look up into his eyes and set my jaw with a child-like stubbornness that I am known for._

"_I've lived here all of my life. My friend Simon used to live in this room, but he moved away two months ago for his dad's job. I used to climb across our balconies and have sleepovers with him. I live in the apartment that's next to yours." I explain while sitting down onto his bed and lying back until I am in a comfortable position. "Besides," I start again, still speaking as the blonde-haired boy sits down next to me warily; as if I am diseased. "you left your door unlocked. You were basically inviting me in. If you really wanted me out so badly, you wouldn't've been moping around on your bed like a toddler and would've been locking your door and acting your age." I state tiredly, as if my job of being a nine-year-old is extremely exhausting. The blonde-haired boy's wide, golden eyes stare at me blankly throughout my entire speech, causing me to glare up at him in annoyance. I sigh dramatically and let my head fall back against his mattress heavily, causing him to fight back a smile and sniffle again. I grin up at him and sit up. He eyes me curiously for a moment, before seeming to remember exactly what his priorities are._

"_Who are you? Why are you here?" he asks, his tone slightly hoarse from crying. I stare at him intently for a moment, before grabbing his hand and playing with his first, he tries to pull his hand back, but soon gives up after realizing that I'm not going to let go._

"_I could hear you crying from my room. I live across from you, ya' see." I say distractedly, pointing towards his window and at my balcony that is directly across from his. He sits up straighter with interest and looks down at where our hands are, me making his form shapes and his laying limply in my grasp, letting me play with his hand to my heart's content. "It was starting to annoy me, so I decided to come see what's that matter with you." I state, dropping his hand down onto his lap and looking up into his slightly swollen eyes. "Are you okay? Because you moved here about a week ago, and all that I've seen you do is cry in here. Did you hurt yourself? Can I help?" I ask, my tone taking on a slightly worried one towards the end. He smiles slightly at me and ducks his head down._

"_No, I'm not hurt. I'm just sad." He sniffles again and his eyes start to get watery. "I miss my mom and dad." He mumbles quietly, but loud enough so that I can hear. I furrow my eyebrows at him and scoot closer to his trembling form, trying to comfort him._

"_What happened to them? Where are they?" I ask softly but curiously, brushing a hand over his hair lightly like Mommy does when I'm sad. A tear slides down his face and he wipes at his cheeks harshly, before leaning into my touch slightly._

"_Maryse said that they're in Heaven now. I'm not so sure, though. They died in a car-accident about three weeks ago." he tries to explain bravely, but the tears continue to come and soon he is crying quietly again. I wrap my arms around him and pull him to me gently, surprised when his arms wind themselves around my smaller form and he buries his face in my chest. _

"_Sh, it's okay." I whisper calmly, trying to comfort him like how Mommy has done to me so many times. Eventually, he stops crying and pulls back from me. He gives me a weak smile and I smile back widely._

"_Now that that's taken care of, do you wanna play with me and my brother? We were going to play Hide-and-Seek in our apartment. It's really fun. We build forts and sometimes my Dad plays with us." I ask hopefully. His eyes brighten up and he nods vigorously at me with a wide smile._

"_Sure." He exclaims excitedly, jumping up from his bed and pulling me with him; his earlier sadness forgotten. We start towards his balcony, but before we start climbing across the 1-foot gap that separates our rooms, he grabs the sleeve of my T-shirt and pulls me to a stop. "What's your name?" he asks curiously. I smile and hold out my hand like Daddy does when he meets with people from work._

"_Clarissa Adele Morgenstern at your service, but my friends just call me Clary for short." I state formally, shaking his hand when he holds his out to meet mine._

"_Jonathan Christopher Herondale, but Maryse and Robert call me Jace for short." He says with a wide smile that shows childish dimples in each of his cheeks. I smile wider when I hear his name, before starting to climb across the small gap._

"_You have my brother's name, Jace. I think that we're going to be best-friends." I announce proudly when we stand firmly in my bright-green bedroom. His eyes widen slightly at the difference from his plain white bedroom, but his grin is still in place as we set off to find Jon to start playing._

_(End of Flashback)_

Jace and I immediately became best-friends from that day onwards. He knows my every secret and I know his. He and I basically formed our group of friends between the two of us, with us being in completely different 'clicks' if you will. His additions to the group were Jordan Kyle; the high-school drop-out, Alec Lightwood; Jace's adoptive brother and best-guy-friend, Sebastian Verlac; one of Jace's friends from football and also my brother's best-friend, and Jonathan Morgenstern; Jace's friend and also my big brother. My additions to the group were Isabelle Lightwood; my sister-from-another-mister, Maia Roberts; Jordan's girlfriend and also one of my only girl-friends that likes gaming, and Simon Lewis; one of my closest friends and hardcore geek. When you add up all of the different personalities that make up our group, you either have complete compatibility, or you have a thermonuclear weapon that is just waiting to be set off.

One of the hardest things that we have had to deal with is our age differences. You see Maia, Izzy, Simon, Jace, and I are all sixteen, when Jordan, Alec, Seb, and Jon are all seventeen. We all seem to make it work, despite the thousands of arguments that Jon and I have had about him being older and more 'responsible' when it comes to who is in charge. Jace always seems to win our arguments though; even the ones that he isn't even a part of.

He, somehow, always knows where we are in our apartment. Like, Jon and I will be watching TV, and he'll just appear out of nowhere and make himself comfortable on our couch after he has pushed both of us off of it. Sadly, my entire family has had to accept Jace's lack of personal space, so he has free reign over my entire apartment. More than once, have I regretted letting him know about our balconies and not being able to lock my window securely. _Trust me, I've tried._ I even once put several pad-locks onto the latch that secures my window shut, but he still figured out how to break those off and sneak into my apartment. It is kind of amusing to think about, but mostly frustrating because I have no privacy. _None. At. All._ One time when we were 13, he decided that it would be funny to barge into my bathroom while I was showering; he climbed through my window, came into my bathroom that is connected to my room, sat down onto the toilet, and then proceeded to tell me all about his day while I was screaming for him to leave. Jon thought that it was hilarious, so he didn't really help at all.

Of course, Jace isn't the only one who uses our crappy locks to his advantage. After the 'Shower Incident', as I like to call it, I decided to get a little pay-back. I basically went into his room while he was in the shower and stole all of his clothing. I had then proceeded to leave a bright red thong and a matching bra that Izzy had lent me on his bed. The only problem with my evil-plan was that I had forgotten that it was Jace whom I was dealing with. I almost died when he showed up in my bedroom at around 2:00am later that night; wearing only the thong and bra that I had earlier left in his room. _I swear, that man has no shame whatsoever. _He ended up hysterically laughing while I was hiding underneath of my comforters and quietly yelling at him to go home. It was, after all, 2:00am and my father would've killed both of us _slowly_ for waking him up when he had to work the next morning. We have made some very inappropriate memories together, that's for sure.

Jace and I have always been close for as long as I have known him. Well, except for when Simon moved back into our apartment building and made Jace extremely worried that I would leave him for Simon. Of course, I didn't, but Jace really made a big deal out of me being friends with Simon. I eventually got him to agree to be friends with Simon as well, but he still teases him relentlessly for having a crush on Izzy. Sometimes I wonder where Jace's personality came from, but then I remember that I was one of his prime examples as a child, so I can't really talk. _Insert unabashed smile here. _

. . .

I look around my small bedroom and take in my surroundings as I pace. Maia and Jordan are sitting together snugly at the top of my bed, acting as if nobody matters except for the two of them. _Lucky pieces of shit._ Izzy, Simon, and Seb are all splayed out onto the floor in front of where I am pacing, eyeing me warily. Alec and Jon are talking quietly amongst themselves, most likely about this so-called 'band'. And finally there's Jace, who is staring at me with puppy-dog-eyes and slowly starting to get up from his spot of the edge of my bed. I stop pacing momentarily to watch him as he makes his way over to me. I stare up into his familiar golden orbs with defiance, only to sigh in defeat after a moment. I drop my gaze to the ground when I see his shit-eating grin take over his features and sigh heavily again.

"What are you planning, Jace?" I mumble half-heartedly, still staring at the hard-wood floor beneath me. I feel his thumb take my chin and lift it up o that I am staring at his face, before he starts speaking.

"Well," he starts, basically letting me know that this is a bad idea before he has even started telling me. "Jon, Seb and I were brainstorming the other day, and Jon mentioned how Simon is in a band, so naturally I had to look into it. Apparently they suck ass," he is cut off by Simon's angry voice echoing through my room.

"Hey!"

"So," Jace continues as if Simon never said a thing. "I checked with everyone to see if any of us could play instruments. Turns out, that enough of us are musically gifted to form a band. Jon kicks ass on the guitar, Jordan plays guitar too, Alec agreed to be our bass-player, Seb has been taking drum lessons since he was like five, and I, of course, will be providing the heavenly chorus to bring us all together. It's ingenious really." He explains, sounding extremely proud of himself. I stare at him, momentarily stunned, before slowly leaning back against the wall and sliding down so that I am sitting in front of my bed on the floor.

"And why, do pray-tell, am I needed for this?" I ask tiredly, slight confusion laced into my voice. Jace squats down in front of me so that we are at eye level and grins.

"You, my dear dumpling, are going to help us come up with a name, logo, help book us at gigs, and pretty much be our manager. We've all discussed this, and agree that you are the most trustworthy out of everybody that we know. It really wasn't up for discussion, I mean," he pauses his speech to stand up again and start looking around at the group, who has gone silent sometime during Jace's earlier speech. I stand up as well and look at Jace in panic.

"What?! I can't be your _manager!_ I don't even like the idea of you guys being in a band. Let alone being in control over it!" I cry incredulously, quickly scanning all of my friends' faces to see if they all agree with this. Sadly for me though, they are all smiling at me encouragingly. _Mother-fucking traitors. _Jace walks over to me and grabs me by my shoulders, shaking me softly.

"Well, you could be in the band. There's always that option, but you are being a part of this. No if's, and's, or but's." he says gently, but his words are final. My eyes widen and I shake my head at him in disbelief.

"What would I play?! I can't even play the triangle without causing bodily harm to the bystanders. There's no way in_ hell_ that I'll be able to learn an instrument that consists of possible weaponry. I couldn't even play the _tambourine_ because I accidentally let go of it while trying to use it and it went airborne through the window in Mrs. Penhallow's classroom. They literally _banned_ me from the music department. _Permanently."_ I list off exasperatedly. Jace grins down at me deviously, before moving away from me and facing the rest of the group again.

"Well, that settles it then. Clary's going to be our little _Flame_ in the band. You'll really _light_ things up." He says smugly, snickering to himself quietly when I glare at him.

"Careful, Herondale. I know where you sleep." I threaten, not emptily. He smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at me.

"Is that an invitation?" he asks innocently, despite the devilish glint that seems to have taken shelter within the depths of his eyes.

I roll my eyes as he whole group laughs at his joke and playfully punch his shoulder. He dramatically drops to the ground and starts vibrating, resembling someone who is having a seizure. I giggle into my hand, before going to the ground and poking the soft spot that is located on the side of his ribcage. He knows that I know that he hates it when I do that, so I continue to do exactly that. He chuckles breathlessly and sits up, making me stop my assault on his ribs and back away. His eyes get a mischievous look in them, warning me to 'run now', but I never get a chance to listen to my instincts.

He lunges towards me and tackles me to the ground, tickling me until I am almost in tears from laughing. His smile is wide and genuine when he finally stops tickling me, causing my breath to catch slightly. He almost never smiles genuinely anymore. It's always smirks and grins, but he always seems to give me one genuine smile every day. It's almost like a goal of sorts.

I am brought out of my thoughts by Jace standing up and pulling me with him. once I am steady o my feet again, he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the bed. We plant ourselves at the end and look at everyone.

"So, what do we do first, Flame?" he asks me, seriousness and teasing mixed together in his tone. I groan and let my head fall down against his shoulder.

"I don't know." I mumble into his t-shirt, causing him to chuckle.

"Okay, so…" he starts to explain something to me, but I'm not really listening. I'm only hearing my own thoughts, really only one in particular. _What the hell did Jace just drag me into?_

**Hello, lovely readers. So, this is the beginning of my new story. Yay! I really like where I have this story headed, so I will be updating soon. Very soon. **

**As always, Cassandra Clare owns all, except for the plot and my ideas. :D**

**Review&amp;Follow :D**


	2. Chapter 2

_Clary POV_

I am startled awake by a loud knocking sounding through my small bedroom. I groan and try to bury myself deeper into my comforter, but the annoying sound continues. I slowly roll out of my warm bed and walk towards the door. Before I open it though, I take a glance at the alarm clock that is sitting on my bedside table. _5:30am. Who the hell wakes up at 5:30am?! _I roll my eyes at myself, because I already know that answer, and pull open my door. I furrow my brows together and groggily look down the hallway when no one appears to be at my door. _Nobody? What the fuck-? _

I am interrupted by the insistent knocking continuing, this time from my window. I sigh deeply and stumble over to my closed window. I pull it open and come face to face with Jace. He is perched like Spiderman in between the small gap that separates our Balconies and is grinning like a small child with ADHD. I glare at him harshly, but he takes no notice because he is already jumping down through my window and spreading out onto my bed. I scowl at him while he makes himself comfortable, before sighing and joining him on my bed.

"What do you want Jace?" I demand quietly, still half-asleep. He turns to face me and grins even wider.

"I came to get you for our first _official_ band meeting. I already called everybody else, so they should be at my apartment in about three or four hours." He states, sounding wide-awake. I let out an incredulous breath and allow my head to fall back against my pillows.

"Why in the _actual hell_ are you here at 5:30 then?" I mumble tiredly. I lose my eyes and feel the bed shift, so I know that Jace has scooted closer to me. I feel him pick up one of my braids, because I always sleep in braids, and start playing with it absentmindedly.

"Well, I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so I thought, '_Hey, why don't I go visit my favorite little red-head and let her suffer my lack of sleep with me.'_ So, yeah. That's pretty much the only excuse that I have." He explains lightly, but making sure that his voice is quiet. I nod slightly, completely used to Jace's abnormal sleeping pattern, and roll over towads him. he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me until I am resting my head on his chest. I listen to his steady heartbeat and sigh softly, before resting my chin on his chest and looking up into his eyes.

"Do you think that you could go back to sleep, because I am exhausted." I murmur sleepily. I feel him plant a kiss onto my forehead and nod.

"Yeah, I probably can. I just wanted to see you." He says honestly. I smile slightly, before getting comfortable and relaxing. I feel him take out the hair-tie that was holding in one of my braids, but do nothing to stop him from messing up my hair.

"Night." I mumble softly, before closing my eyes and snuggling up to my best-friend. I feel him gently tug on a part of my hair and settle back into my pillows, before I hear a quiet whisper.

"It's morning." His voice drips sarcasm, even in it's quiet and soft tone. I slightly nudge him with my elbow and he chuckles. "Night, Clare." His soft voice barely registers in my mind, before I let the darkness carry me away; completely content to be in my best-friends arms.

* * *

Even when we were younger, Jace has always been very touchy-feely. That's the only way that I can think to describe it. He has always hugged me and kissed numerous parts of my body like Jon does; _but not like that you perves_. He's like the more attentive older brother that replaces Jon occasionally. I've learned to just allow Jace to do whatever he wants; like if he's playing ith my hair, he most likely won't stop even if I am screaming at him. I am almost positive that he finds it amusing to get me all riled-up.

Anyway, he just really likes to cause me grief.

* * *

I am woken up, yet again, by knocking. This time though, it is definitely on my door. I go to get out of my bed, only to find a large, tan arm restraining me. I follow the arm up to its owner and find Jace's sleeping face pressed into my pillows. I smile slightly and start to lift up his arm, only to have it tighten around my shoulders and bring me to him. I sigh and try to wiggle out of his grasp, but one of his eyes open before I can. He just looks at me for a moment, before a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and he squeezes me tighter to him.

"Jace, let me go." I whine. "There's someone at the door." I say, while poking his cheek with my index finger. He opens up both of his eyes and grins evilly at me.

"Nope. I like you right here." He mumbles, his voice slightly husky from sleep. He buries his face into my hair and breathes in, causing me to slap him over his head.

"Let go, ass-wipe." I demand, trying to not giggle at his affronted face.

"_Ass-wipe?!_ What the fuck is an ass-wipe?" he asks me, momentarily losing his grip on me. I slide out from under his arm and race towards my door, while sticking my tongue out at Jace; like the mature 16-year-old that I am. I take in a deep breath, before opening the door. Jon stands there, banging his head against the wall next to the doorframe. He continues his assault on his forehead, not noticing that I have opened the door, so I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms over my chest.

"You know, you're going to kill any and all brain-cells that you managed to keep if you continue to do that, right?" I ask teasingly, causing him to straighten up and look me in the eye.

"Is Jace in there? Because everybody else is next door, but he isn't. We've been waiting for, like, 30 minutes." He says quickly, pointedly ignoring my last statement. I roll my eyes and walk back into my room, where Jace is now sitting up in my bed and yawning. He stretches his arms above his head and jumps out of the bed, walking over to the window.

"Sorry, Jon. Your sister decided that I needed to sleep with her, so she was occupying my time." He informs Jon mock-seriously, sending a sly wink my way. Jon's eyes widen slightly, but he eyes me and Jace for a moment before speaking.

"You slept _together? _Or you _slept _together_?_" he asks, his face confused. Jace grins and starts climbing onto the windowsill.

"That, my friend, is all up to your interpretation." He says mysteriously, before disappearing through the window. I sigh and laugh under my breath, while walking towards my balcony.

Jace and I's rooms each have one window and one balcony. They are both across from each other, so we use them to get to each other's rooms. I usually use the balconies though, and Jace uses the windows. It's just an unsaid rule, I guess.

"So, you guys actually did the deed, or you just had a sleepover?" Jon asks, still not comprehending what Jace just said. I roll my eyes and start climbing over the railings that separates our balconies.

"Figure it out for yourself. You're a smart boy. Or did you actually kill all of your brain-cells earlier?" I inquire devilishly, causing Jon to scoff and leave my room. For some reason, Jon refuses to climb over the railings on our balconies. It might be the fat that we are three stories up high, but if that's the case, he's just being a wimp.

When I land onto Jace's balcony, I hear voices coming from inside of his room. I walk in, to see that everyone is settling themselves down onto his bed and floor; like they were in my room yesterday. I make my way over to Jace, who is sitting on his desk chair and spinning in circles like an eight-year-old, and stand in front of him.

"What are we all doing here?" I ask curiously. He stops spinning and faces me, opening up his knees so that I am stood in between them.

"We're discussing the band. We need to figure out the name, logo, songs, you know. All of the stuff that I kind of told you about yesterday." He says casually, setting his hands onto my shoulders and rocking back and forth in the chair. _Shit! Was that what he was talking about? _I sigh and look him dead in the eye.

"I wasn't really listening yesterday, so…" I admit sheepishly, causing him to chuckle.

"That's okay. We just need to at least figure out the name; and where we'll be practicing at, because I don't think that Madame Dorthea would like it if we practiced at the Institute." He says thoughtfully. I nod and go to find a seat, but Jace pulls me down onto his lap and rests his chin on my shoulder. I giggle slightly and lean back against his chest.

Madame Dorthea is the landlady for the apartment complex that Jace and I live in. she's really odd, like voodoo-odd, but is overall really nice. She just doesn't tolerate loud noise very well. The Institute is the apartment building itself. Jace, Alec, and Izzy started calling it that sometime after they moved in, so it just kind of _stuck,_ if you will. I look up and notice that the room is starting to quiet down, so Jace takes this moment to start speaking.

"Quiet down, my lowly peasants." He bellows in a deep voice, causing everyone, except for me of course, to look at him weirdly. I cough slightly to cover up my laugh and lean my head back onto his shoulder. "Okay, so the first order of business is," he pauses for a dramatic affect. "band names." He says finally. Everyone is silent for a moment, before Jordan speaks up.

"What about, 'Bean-bags and Baristas'?" he asks, making a grand gesture with him hand. Everyone shakes their head at him, causing him to mock-pout.

"How about, 'The Chubby Hamsters'?" Simon suggests, causing Jace to scowl at him.

"No. you don't even get an input. You're not in the band. Why are you even here?" he demands. Simon flushes bright red, but Izzy saves her crush by death-glaring Jace. He clears his through, before going silent again. We sit around for a few minutes, until Jon suddenly sits up straight and raises his hand like a child.

"I know! 'The Pyro and his Flame'!" he exclaims, sounding awfully proud of himself. I rol my eyes and shake my head at him. He huffs, but shuts up and sits back down.

"'The Agrestic Arguers'?" asks Seb after a minute. Nobody seems to bite on his idea, so we sit there for a while, just thinking. Finally, Jon decides to talk again.

"What about, 'The Hydro and his Faucet'?" he asks curiously. We all glare at him. "'The Clepto and his Handbag'?" silence greets his statement. "'The Nympho and his Prostitute'?" he asks hopefully, but only succeeds in causing everyone to burst out laughing.

"No, Jon. We're not naming our band after a sex-addict!" Jace exclaims, his chest vibrating with laughter through my back. Soon, everyone has calmed down and is thinking again.

"'The One-Night-Standers'?" asks Jordan after a while. Everybody shoots that idea down, causing him to sigh and flop onto his back on the bed. Simon groans and rolls his eyes.

"This is pointless." He mumbles. Jace looks at him sharply and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Well, please enlighten me, what do you think that we should name _our _band, Rat-boy?" he inquires harshly, making sure to use the old nickname that he used to call Simon when we were younger. Simon perks up slightly and points a finger at Jace.

"What about, 'The Enlighteners' or 'the Enlightened'. Just pick _something_." He exclaims, glaring at Jace with his eyes. Jace scoffs and buries his face into my neck.

"No. Your ideas suck ass." He says, his voice slightly muffled by my skin. I reach a hand up and run it through his hair, trying to calm him down so that he and Simon don't start a verbal war, _once again._ Izzy and Maia, whom have been silent the entire time, look at each other for a moment, before standing up and walking out of the room.

"We're going to go get some pizzas. We'll be back, but you guys better have the name sorted out by that time." Izzy warns, before slamming the door dramatically and waltzing out of the apartment on her 5-inch heels. The seven of us that are left all look at each other and groan.

"This is so hard." Jon moans dramatically, causing all of us to nod in agreement.

"What about," Jace starts, but pauses to think. "'The Lord and his Peasants'?" he mumbles half-heartedly. Nobody acknowledges his suggestion, so he just sighs and wraps his arms around me tighter.

"'The Amputated Limbs'?" Seb asks unsurely. I snort and shake my head. Alec, who hasn't said any suggestions yet, suddenly sits up; a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"We could call ourselves, 'The Porphyrophobics'." He says mock-seriously, causing me to burst out laughing. Alec is usually the quiet one, but he has a great sense of humor. You just have to figure out how to get him out of his shell. Apparently though, I am the only one who got his joke, because everyone else is staring at me and Alec blankly.

"What's a porphyrophobic?" Jace mumbles into my ear. I giggle and turn my head to face him.

"It's someone who has the irrational fear of the color purple." I manage to get out through my giggles. Jace chuckles and looks to Alec with a questioning look.

"Why the hell would we name our band that?" he asks, thoroughly amused. Alec just shakes his head and laughs quietly.

"That's what makes it funny. We wouldn't." he says, smiling widely. We are interrupted by a loud knocking on the door, causing me to fall off of Jace's lap in surprise. My groan and roll onto my side in pain, but am quickly pulled into Jace's arms.

"Are you okay, Clare?" he asks concernedly. I smile at him, nod, and stand up with his help. I look towards the door, to see Robert Lightwood standing in the doorway. He smiles kindly at us all and walks into the room further.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be at school?" he asks curiously. Jace shakes his head, while sitting back down onto the chair and setting me on his lap again.

"Nah, it's Sunday." He states casually. I lean into his muscular form and sigh quietly. _Now my ass hurts._ Robert gets a looks of realization on his face and nods.

"Right, Sunday." He mutters absentmindedly, before backing out of the room again. "I think that I should probably head to work, then." He pauses to glance down at his watch, only to have his eyes widen fractionally. "Shit! Excuse my language. I've got to go." He says hurriedly, before dashing out of the door. I glance around the room in confusion.

"What time is it?" I ask quietly. Jace points towards the alarm-clock that decorates his white dresser. It's probably the only thing in his entire room that isn't white, besides his clothing of course. The clock reads 10:45am. I look up at Jace from my position on his lap and furrow my brows. "I thought that Izzy and Maia were going to go get pizza. Why would they go get pizza at 10:45 in the morning?" I ask confusedly. Jordan laughs and stands up to stretch.

"They were bored. That's why." He states plainly. I nod slightly, before standing up and walking towards the balcony.

"Where are you going?" Simon asks; his tone slightly panicked. I roll my eyes, but keep on moving towards the railing.

"I'm going to go get dressed, Simon. If you haven't noticed, I'm still in my PJ's." I say slowly, as if talking to a two-year-old, without glancing back at him.

"Don't leave me alone with _him,_ Clary! Please, I beg of you." He calls out to me. I can just see him making doe-eyes at my and pointing at Jace like he is diseased. I scoff and turn back towards the group of boys when I reach the railing.

"You'll be fine. I'll be back in ten minutes. You'll survive." And with that, I start climbing over the railings. I can vaguely hear Jace let out a mock-evil laugh and I chuckle.

* * *

True to my word, I am making my way back over the railings in ten minutes. I am dressed in plain skinny jeans and a band t-shirt. I am carrying a pair of converse with me, because I was too lazy to put them on in my room. When I walk into Jace's room, Simon is cowering in the corner and hugging one of Jace's many pillows to his chest. His knees are brought up to his shoulders, _he's really skinny,_ and he is slowly rocking back and forth. I walk into the room fully, to see that Jace is absent from the picture. I furrow my brows and look around the room again. _No Jace. Huh…_ I turn towards Jon, who is on his phone, and poke his shoulder.

"What?" he mumbles distractedly without looking up at me. I roll my eyes at his rude antics and sit down beside him on Jace's bed.

"Where's Jace?" I ask, thoroughly annoyed already. He points towards the door that leads to Jace's bathroom.

"He's getting dressed." Jon says, still not looking at me. I sigh and flop onto my back on the bed. Jordan, who is still sitting at the top of the bed, quirks an eyebrow at me and nudges my shoulder with his hand.

"You okay?" he asks playfully. "I mean, you did fall pretty hard earlier." He states with an amused smile. I just groan and bury my face into my hands.

"It's not my fault that I was startled. Besides, I have no coordination whatsoever. Like any. _At all._ I'm really innocent, if you think about it. Robert was the one who caused me to fall on my ass-" I suddenly cut myself off and sit up straight, causing Jordan, Alec, Simon, and Seb to look at me worriedly.

"What's wrong?" Seb asks. I smile and shake my head. I shoot up from the bed and run over to the bathroom door.

"Jace! Hurry your ass up! It's important!" I call while banging loudly on the door.

"Coming." Is his muffled response. I excitedly go back over to the bed and sit down, trying to ignore the odd looks that the guys are giving me; well, all but Jon. He's still on his phone.

About one minute later, Jace walks out of his bathroom; shirtless. Of course, this doesn't bother me. We've seen each other practically naked before, but I still like to appreciate his beauty. _Those abs though. _He literally is the epitome of a Greek god. It's almost unfair if you think about it, but I don't like to dwell on things that are out of my control. _Yes you do, _that little annoying voice whispers in the back of my mind. _Shut up. _

One of the sad things about my life is that I am naturally surrounded by beautiful people. Seriously, it's like I only make friends with attractive people. It really doesn't help me self-esteem. Jordan, Jon, Alec, Seb, and Jace all look like Hollister models, Maia and Izzy could be Victoria's Secret Angels, and even Simon is attractive.

Now, me? _Psh, forget about it._ I'm literally 5'2, have bright crimson-red hair, pale skin, and emerald-green eyes. I'm just a midget with red hair and pretty eyes. Nothing else. _Oh, well._ I am brought out of my revere, by Jace walking over to his dresser and pulling out a black t-shirt.

"So, what did you need?" he asks while pulling on his shirt. I almost whimper, but keep myself in check and avoid eye contact. _Not the abs!_ _Don't cover them up. Show them to the world._ I look down at my lap and instantly remember.

"Oh, yeah. Um, I think that I have a name for the band." I say while playing with my fingers. This causes everyone, including Jon, to look at me and gesture for me to continue talking. "Well, what about, 'The Fallen'?" I ask unsurely, still avoiding eye contact. The room is silent for a minute, before I am being lifted into the air and spun around. Instinctively, I scream. _Bloody murder. _I look up and am met with Jace's ecstatic gaze. "Put me down. Now, Herondale." I order, trying to keep my giggles at bay. He complies, only to bring me into a giant bear-hug.

"That's it, Clare! That's it!" he exclaims excitedly. Suddenly, four more bodies crash into ours and capture us into an even larger bear-hug. I look over one of the boys' limbs, and see Simon standing off to the side awkwardly. I go to motion him over, but am interrupted by Jon.

"Why are we hugging?" he asks curiously, causing all of us to laugh. "No, seriously. Why are we hugging?" he repeats, just fueling our laughter.

A while after we separate, Izzy and Maia return with our pizza and we all sit down to eat. We decide to give the band-planning a rest for the day, and to meet at my apartment tomorrow after school. _This can't go well…_

* * *

**So, there you go. They got the name. Yay! What did you think? Ideas? Anyone? Oh, well…**

**Definitions:**

**1\. Pyromaniac- someone who likes to light things on fire**

**2\. Hydromaniac- someone who likes water? I guess…**

**3\. Nymphomaniac- a sex addict**

**4\. Cleptomaniac- someone who likes to steal things; a thief**

**5\. Porphyrophobia- the irrational fear of the color purple**

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for the plot and my ideas. :)**

**Thanks for reviewing and telling me your thoughts. Enjoy! :D**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	3. Chapter 3

_Clary POV_

I walk through the large metal doors of our school and head towards my locker. I quickly make my way through the crowd that is threatening to swallow me up, and soon I am opening the old, blue piece of metal that I call my locker. I expertly enter my code and start gathering my things for my first class of the day. When I have all of my things together, I start slowly walking down the hallway. Just as I reach the door to my classroom though, a large arm drapes itself over my shoulders. I look to my left and see none other than Jace. I glare at him and slip out of under his arm.

You see, this morning Jace thought that it would be funny to set my alarm for 3:20am. For some reason, he finds endless amusement in my losing several _hours_ of sleep. I have decided to just go out on a limb and make him pay. He usually spends his entire day with me, so I am going to ignore him and not let him touch me all day. That probably sounded really weird, but I have my reasons. Jace always has had a habit of touching me constantly, whether it's just holding my hand or playing with my hair. He's always been that way, ever since when we first became friends, so I have learned to just let him do what he wants, but not until he apologizes for earlier. This is going to be fun, because I've never _not_ let Jace play with my hair, or hold my hand, or even throw an arm around my shoulders. _Get ready for the fun Jace…_

I walk over to my seat, that happens to be right next to Jace's, and plop down lazily; still not looking at or even acknowledging Jace. I vaguely see him walk over to his desk and sit down slowly in his seat, as if in a daze, in my peripheral. He looks over at me with his brows furrowed and biting his lip harshly, looking completely lost. I take a deep breath and take out a notebook to start drawing in. _You will not look at him. You will not. He deserves this. Don't give into his poor, confused, cute look… _I blink rapidly at that last thought and slightly shake my head, before starting to draw a flower. _What the fuck was that about? I mean, sure. Jace is cute; hot even, but everyone with eyes can see that. With his molten-golden hair and equally as golden eyes …. Shut up! He's your best-friend, you slut. Focus on the flower. Yeah, flower… _I mentally scold myself and go back to drawing. I feel something poke my arm and look over to see Jace retracting his pencil. He is looking into my eyes worriedly; all signs of the normal cocky Jace gone.

"What was that earlier?" he asks quietly, carefully glancing towards the door to see if the teacher has come in yet. He hasn't, so Jace looks back at me expectantly. I sigh and look back down at my drawing, adding some shading here and there. I shrug after a moment and try to not notice his eyes narrowing.

"Okay, I see how it is. Two can play at this game, Red. Just be prepared to be destroyed." He says challengingly, but I never get to respond. Right after he finishes his statement, the door to the classroom fries open and in walks Mr. Wayland, our English teacher. He is a middle-aged man with graying-brown hair and kind brown eyes. He smiles slightly at the class and walks over to the board and starts the lesson right after taking roll-call. I sigh again and settle down for the lesson, still trying to avoid Jace's piercing gaze.

* * *

When the bell rings, signaling the end of class, I make a mad-dash towards the door; hoping to avoid Jace so that I don't break my resolve sooner than I have planned. Sadly for me though, Jace is almost twice my size and plays football. That means that he is able to corner me before I can set a foot out of the door. Well, not really corners me; more like he drags me off further down the hallway where no witnesses are before I can escape his grasp.

When he does finally let go though, I try to run around him to no avail. I continue to try though, for about five minutes, before Jace gets frustrated and pins me against the lockers. He places one of his hands on either side of my head and leans in close so that we are almost touching everywhere; except for from our waists down of course. He rests his forehead against mine and our noses brush slightly, causing my breath to catch in my throat. _What the fuck?! _He looks deep into my eyes, like he is reading my soul like an open book.

"What did I do? Why are you mad at me, Clare?" he asks softly, trying to butter me up into giving in. I almost do because of the way his eyes show vulnerability, but I bite my tongue and keep quiet.

He sighs heavily and steps back away from me, letting me breathe normally again. I subtly sick in a deep breath and prepare to make my escape, but something in his expression stops me. He looks troubled and almost, dare I say it, _broken_. His eyes are trained inently on the floor and his hands are fidgeting nervously at his sides. I furrow my brows in concern and take a hesitant step towards him.

"Jace? What's wrong?" I ask quietly, trying to get him to look up at me again. His eyes are still on the floor, so I take another step towards him and poke him gently on his cheek. "Barbie?" I ask teasingly, trying to get him to look at me still.

I see a muscle jump in his cheek, before his eyes finally snap up to mine. Immediately, I know that I made a mistake by the devilish look in his eyes. I quickly step away from him and make a move to start running, but he catches me by around the waist and tackles me to the ground. I grunt and roll over so that I am facing him. _Big mistake._

Do you know that totally cliché moment in movies, when the male specimen and the female specimen are just a little too close to each other and they soon end up having a _very_ _hot_ make-out session? Well, you could say that Jace and I are almost at the first step. He is hovering over me with a wide grin plastered onto his smug face and has his hands planted on either side of my head, once again. I swallow nervously, completely aware of how close we are, and look up into his eyes.

"Jace, get off. We're on the floor _in the middle of the hallway! _We're going to be late for class." I manage to squeak out, desperately trying to shove him off of me. He makes his eyes big and innocent and pouts; _in the most adorable way, might I add. Shut up! _I internally roll my eyes at myself, before pushing at his chest again.

"But, I want to cuddle." He whines childishly, moving closer to me and letting more of his weight weigh me down. I gasp and push at his chest harder, fighting off the smile that is threatening to take over my features. "Why don't you want to cuddle with me, Clary? I'm so cold. Please." He says in a mock-cute voice. I groan and wheeze when he full-out lies down on top of me. I start slapping one of my hands down onto the ground after he doesn't move and push even harder at his lean body, trying to make him get off of me.

"Jace, your suffocating me. Your _fat ass _is crushing my body! Move!" I manage to gasp out, a slight teasing smile plastered onto my face against my will. He chuckle deeply and stands up, leaving me on the ground gasping for air. I overdramatically lay still and suck in several deep breaths, causing Jace to burst out laughing.

"Oh, come on. I'm not that heavy, you wimp. Now, get up." He demands lightly, reaching down and pulling me up by one of my hands.

I stumble slightly at first, but Jace steadies me, and then we start making our way towards our next class. Jace and I, coincidentally, have the same schedule, so I don't get a break from him all day. Sometimes it's bearable, but most of the time, like right now, I want to feed his mangled carcass to a Barracuda and watch it get devoured. _Was that a little too morbid? Yes, yes it was. _Jace slings an arm over my shoulders and keeps it there while we walk closer to the history classroom, despite my best efforts of removing it. Before we enter the classroom, where our class has already started might I add, he turns me towards him and grabs ahold of my shoulders; holding me in place.

"Why are you mad at me?" he asks, sounding slightly worried. "And don't you even _think _about shrugging or staying silent. I know that I did something, though I can't imagine what, so you have to tell me. Right. Now." He adds when I don't show any signs of responding. I sigh and lean into his hands slightly. I bow my head and clear my throat, before speaking.

"Iwasmadaboutwhatyoudidthismorningtomyalarmclock,soIdecidedtomakeyoupayforyouractions." I mumble incoherently, causing Jace to lean towards me and raise an eyebrow in question.

"What did you say? Sorry, I don't speak gibberish." He states playfully. I sigh and look down at my feet, which are suddenly very interesting.

"I was mad about what you did this morning to my alarm-clock, so I decided to make you pay for your actions." I murmur a little clearer. His eyes widen and he sputters out an amused laugh, before drawing me towards him and wrapping his arms around my slight frame.

"So, you decided to ignore me and make me feel like I actually did something bad; just because I messed with your alarm-clock?! I thought that I did something that actually matters, not deprive you of a few hours of sleep!" he exclaims quietly into my ear. I can almost _hear_ the self-satisfied smile in his voice, but I am too busy glowering into Jace's t-shirt to actually do anything about it.

"It's not funny!" I declare stubbornly, stepping away from his arms that were previously crushing my body to his. "I could've slept in for almost three hours. _Three!"_ I point an accusing finger at him and glare, but on the inside I am trying to fight back a smile at his overjoyed face. He just laughs loudly and ruffles my hair.

"You really are_ too_ cute sometimes, you know." He states factually, causing me to grin up at him and stick my tongue out. He smiles down at me fondly and gets a hopeful look in his eyes. "So, am I forgiven?" he asks, his tone as hopeful as his eyes. I roll my eyes and nod. He fist-bumps the air, but is interrupted by the door to the classroom opening.

We both immediately quiet down and look over towards our history teacher, Mrs. Brown. She glares at us and points to the open door, motioning for us to get into the classroom. We quickly obey and quietly take our seats, snickering to ourselves the whole time. Jace reaches his hand down towards mine underneath of the table and I give him a high-five. He sends me a secret smile, before turning towards the front and paying attention to the almost-over class. I do the same, but don't really pay attention. The only thing that is on my mind is, _Dammit, Clary! Why did you have to give in so quickly? You were supposed to torture him… Oh, well…_

* * *

When I get home from school, I go straight for the fridge and throw open the door. I quickly take out the box of cold pizza that is sitting on one of the shelves and set it on the counter. I hear the front door open and slam shut, signaling Jon's arrival, and then several pairs of feet stomping onto the floor. I furrow my brows in confusion, but get distracted by the pizza that is sitting so conveniently in front of me. I pick up a slice, just as Jon and whoever else is with him waltz into the kitchen. To my surprise the guest is Max Lightwood, the youngest of the Lightwoods and Jace's adoptive little brother. He smiles hugely when he sees me and comes barreling towards me to give me a hug. I drop my pizza back down into the box and wrap my arms around the small nine-year-old's frame.

"Hey, Max. What's up, buddy?" I ask kindly, separating myself from him and inspecting his appearance.

His glasses are slightly askew, big pale-blue eyes stare up at me curiously, and his hair is ruffled messily. His t-shirt has manga characters on it and his jeans have holes in the knees of them; completing the perfect 'outfit' for a nine-year-old boy. In his hands he holds a thick novel with more illustrated characters on it, the tell-tale sign that he has been reading more manga. I smirk at that, slightly amused at the fact that I was the one who introduced, and eventually got Max addicted, to the books. His already large smile widens noticeably and he holds up his book.

"I just got back from Forbidden Planet. Mom said that I could get some new comics too, but…" he starts to ramble on and on about some new comic-comic book that he bought, but his words basically fly right over my head and out of the metaphorical window. I nod along to his words and smile brightly down at the excited boy, whilst sneaking longing glances down at the abandoned pizza-box that is within reach. _So close, but so far away… _

I vaguely see Jon smile and wave mockingly at me, before retreating from the kitchen and leaving me to listen to Max's consistent babbling. I internally curse him out, but pretend to be interested into the small boy's speech. After he is finally done talking, I furrow my brows in confusion and narrow my eyes at him.

"Max… Why are you here? Shouldn't you be at your own apartment doing, oh I don't know, _homework?"_ I ask teasingly, causing him to grin at me and dash out of the kitchen before I can even tell him to wait. A moment later, I hear the front door slam shut, so I know that Max has gone home. I smile faintly and pick up my piece of cold-pizza again. I take an overly large bite out of the slice and shake my head slightly. _That little boy it too cute for his own good…_

* * *

About an hour later, I decide to head over to Jace's so that we can have our next 'band meeting'. I climb over our balconies and knock loudly on his closed door. It most likely isn't locked, but I find endless amusement in scaring Mr. 'I am Man and Man is me'. I hear a loud curse from the other side of the door, causing me to chuckle, before the door is flung open to reveal glaring golden eyes and a scowl that could make a UFC fighter cry. _Good thing that I'm immune to Jace's death-glare, _I muse while walking into his room and plopping down onto him bed. I hear him sigh in frustration and see him run a hand through his hair quickly.

"Why do you always insist on disturbing my peace, Woman? I could've been shaving or something and I might have cut my jugular. How would you feel then, huh? You'd be responsible for ridding the dark, gloomy world of its only patch of sunlight." He cries dramatically, fixing his features into those of mock-anger. I giggle into my hand softly, while he walks over to his bed and flops down onto his stomach beside me.

I look down at his face intently, before starting to play with his hair. It has grown out too much, so it hangs down over his ears and curls slightly at the ends. I take both of my hands and start bringing it up to the crown of his head, forming a makeshift hair-tie with one of my hands, before taking out one of my own hair-ties from one of my braids and tying it around his hair. I lean back slightly and admire my masterpiece, or disaster. _It all depends on how you look at it._

He looks like a Yorkie with a ponytail after it has been groomed. Needless to say, he looks like he was recently playing dress-up with a bunch of five-year-old girls. I chuckle quietly and look into his eyes, which are trained dazedly onto my face. They have this cloudy look to them, as if he just woke up from a really good dream, and are studying my face like it's a college final; wanting to get everything right. I smile down at him and pat the poof-y thing that I have just created on top of his head, successfully bringing him out of his trance. He blinks a few times, before smiling and jumping off of the bed. He walks into his bathroom and looks in the mirror. His eyes widen and he laughs incredulously, while poking and prodding the small tale-like thing that is on top of his head.

"What the fuck did you _do_ to me?" he asks amusedly, walking back into the room and fixing me with one of his trademark, captivating stares. I shrug and look down at my lap casually, trying to get him to stop staring at me like that.

"I made you look pretty." I state completely serious, fighting off the small smirk that is pulling at the corners of my mouth. He shakes his head and laughs under his breath, before posing and pursing his lips like a model.

"Do I look photo-ready?" he questions playfully. I smile and nod while biting my lip, causing him to grin at me and start strutting in front of his bed. He walks like he's on a runway and stops when he reaches the other side of his room. "You wanna be on top?" he sings lightly when he turns to face me again, causing me to burst out laughing.

"D-did you just sing the 'America's Next Top Model' theme song?" I ask incredulously in between fits of laughter.

"On top." He just sings under his breath instead of responding, before continuing to strut across his room. When he reaches the door that leads to the rest of the apartment he turns back towards me to say something, but said door flies open before he even has the chance. He swivels around quickly, momentarily caught off guard, before smiling and ushering whoever it is that opened the door inside of the room. I hear stifled laughter from outside of the door and stand up to go see why nobody has entered the room yet. Jon, Jordan, Alec, Seb, Izzy, and Maia are all crowded in the hallway, all of their faces red with thinly concealed laughter. Jordan coughs slightly, a hint of a chuckle escaping before he can stop himself, and looks at Jace with an eyebrow raised.

"Hey, ugh, Buddy?" he starts, a grin splitting his handsome features in half. "What's up with your hair? It looks like you let Pepper, from _American Horror Story,_ style your hair, there." He states, causing the whole group to laugh loudly. I even let a few giggles escape me, before walking over to Jace and dragging him further into the room, so that the rest of the group can enter. He is scowling fiercely at them, but still makes no move to fix his hair.

"I'll have you know," he begins stiffly, amusement trying to seep into his tone but he holds it back for the effect. "that our very own Flame over here has graced me with her styling skills. She wants to go to get her cosmetology degree, so she asked me to let her practice on my gorgeous-self. Of course, being the generous saint that I am, I let her do it whole-heartedly. I personally think that I am fit for the runway." He states with a serious expression plastered onto his lips. The laughter almost immediately dies down, and then I am left with six incredulous stares directed pointedly at me.

"Are you _serious, _Clarissa? You? _Cosmetology?_" Jon asks, thoroughly amused. I groan and sit down heavily onto Jace's bed.

"No. He was just kidding. Besides, I don't even wear make-up to _school_; why would I ever want to do that for a _living?_ Seriously Jon, it's like you don't eve stop to think about what comes from that annoying hole in your face that you call a mouth." I explain with an eye-roll, before looking around the group again and noticing something missing. "Hey, where's Simon?" I ask confusedly. Izzy smiles at me, whilst everyone else takes their seats in various parts of Jace's room, and shakes her head slightly.

"He said that he '_shouldn't be associating with the enemy'_, or some shit like that." She starts to explain, while seating herself at the top of the bed. "Apparently, our band and his band aren't 'compatible' or whatever he said. I don't really know. All that he told me was that he won't be coming to any of our band-meetings or practices. Just to ensure us that when his band, Lawn Chair Crisis, becomes _famous,_ that we can't accuse him of stealing our ideas or anything stupid like that." She states plainly, sounding completely bored of the subject. "Personally, I think that he got really bored yesterday, so now he's just going to stay home and pay video games or change the name of his band while we practice. He can really be quite the nerd sometimes, I'll tell ya'." She mumbles to herself, but loud enough so that the entire group can still hear her. Jace sighs heavily and seats himself right next to me, draping one of his arms over my shoulders and allowing me to lean into him.

"That's great. We don't need him here anyways. He just aggravates me and talks nonsense…" he starts to rant, but I quickly cut him off by pinching his side and glaring at him from out of the corner of my eye. He clears his throat slightly before continuing to speak. "So, about the band…"

* * *

**Yay… I guess. There's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**Please let me know what you think about the story so far, it means a lot to me. Thanks. :D**

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for the plot and my ideas… you know the drill… :)**

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	4. Chapter 4

_Clary POV_

I knock on the door impatiently, tired of standing outside in the cold for Seb to open the door. We are all, with the exception of Simon, gathered at Seb's house to initiate the very first band practice. _Apparently, you have to practice your music if you want to become famous, _note the sarcasm there. The door swings open after about a minute of constant pounding, and Seb's flustered face appears in front of us.

"Hey, guys. Sorry, I totally spaced that we were having practice at my house. My aunt showed up really late last night, so we have to be quiet when we're in the house. She's been in a mood all day." He explains sheepishly, while ushering us inside of his house and out of the rain. For some reason, the weather decided to be a bitch today. _Fuck Mother Nature. Or don't, it's you that will be doing the fucking… _

Seb leads us through the house quickly, placing a finger to his lips when we come into the living room. He walks silently through the room and takes us to the backdoor, but before we can exit, a voice stops us in our tracks.

"_Sebastian Verlac!_ Just where do you think you're going with all of these teenagers, young man." The voice screeches, sounding distinctively familiar. Our group spins around, to come face to face with Seb's aunt, Elodie Verlac. She hasn't changed a bit, from her posh clothing to her acute temper. Her scowl could send an entire biker gang running for the hills and her entire posture practically screams _'I'm PMS-ing 24/7'._ In other words, she scares the absolute _shit_ out of all of us; save Jace of course. He's probably the only one who can get on her good side, but we all know that she's just a fifty-year-old Cougar on the hunt.

You see, the Verlacs are one of the 'rich' families in New York. Seb's father is a very successful therapist, whom tries to get all of his friends to spill their feelings at his every beck-and-call, and therefore owns a large mansion-like house. We all agreed to practice here, because Seb's the only one out of the entire group that lives in an actual house. The rest of us live in apartments. For example: Izzy, Alec, Jace, Jon, and I all live at the Institute, while Jordan and Maia live at their own apartments with their parents. They live in the same building though, so it makes it easier for them to date; with Jordan dropping out of high-school and all.

I am brought out of my thoughts, by Elodie squealing annoyingly and tackling Jace in a bear-hug. His eyes widen comically, before he pushes her off of him and hides behind me. He grips my shoulders firmly and moves me in front of him like a shield.

"What are you doing?" he demands, his tone sounding slightly scared. I chuckle internally. _You always flirt with her, not that it's your fault; you flirt with everyone, so she probably thinks that you guys are like 'connected' or some shit like that. _She pouts and tries to hug him again, but just ends up colliding softly with my body; which Jace has conveniently moved in her way. _Jackass. _

"I'm giving you a hug, Jay. I thought that you wanted one. I mean, you always look at me when I'm here." She states, completely oblivious of Jace shuddering when she says 'Jay'.

"Okay, first of all, it's_ Jace; _not _Jay._ Second of all, I don't look at you when you're here. I was simply being polite. Third of all, I don't want a hug! No." he exclaims, his voice sounding desperate and his eyes pleading with her to understand that he doesn't want her. She simply smiles at him slowly, probably trying to be seductive, and giggles lowly.

"You're just lying because you're in front of your friends. Well, I like to _lie_ too. Just my type of lying includes _you," _she points a bony finger at him. "and my _bed." _She finishes off with a slimy wink, before walking back to wherever it was that she came from; being sure to sway her hips while walking. I look behind me at Jace, to see him staring after her with wide eyes and looking like he is about to throw-up. I turn around fully and place a hand on his cheek, bringing his attention from where the creepy lady used to be to me.

"Are you okay? You look a little green, there." I ask softly, trying to soothe him as much as possible. He numbly shakes his head and bites his lip.

"Did you see the way she was looking at me? It was like she was mentally raping me." He whispers hollowly, causing me to wrap my arms around his larger frame and sigh.

"Well, that's what you get for flirting with every living thing on the planet, _Jay._" I say teasingly, drawing beck from the hug. He shakes his head again, before turning to Seb and pointing to the door.

"We need to practice. Now." He orders, sounding like he wasn't just about to throw-up. Seb nods slightly, his facial expression completely bewildered, and opens the backdoor. Our group quickly makes its way through the rain across the small basketball court that is in front of the garage, and soon we are walking into the dry garage.

The relatively large room is empty, aside from a massive drum-set and about ten large amps. I look around and notice sound reflectors and a small room on the far wall of the garage. The room appears to be a sound-room with a large piece of plexi-glass for the front of it. The entire group turns towards Seb with questioning gazes wondering exactly _why_ he has his own sound-room in the garage. He just shrugs and walks further into the garage.

"My dad had a control-room put in when I decided to start playing the drums. It's been there for years." He states, while opening the door to the control-room. He holds up a finger to us, signaling for us to '_wait a minute',_ before walking inside.

Not even a minute later, bright lights flare up the garage; allowing us to see all of the details. I almost gasp at how high-tech it is; the room isn't that empty at all. It's just neatly arranged around the four walls. Red and black paint covers the walls in an hourglass pattern, cords and plug-ins run all over the floor, three microphones are set on top of their stands, and a large see-through shelving system hangs in mid-air on the left wall. The garage-door itself is on the right side of the of the room, so we won't be having any trouble getting everyone's instruments in. I try to absorb everything, but someone interrupts the silence before I can.

"_What the hell, man?_ Why haven't we ever been in here before? We've known you since, like, the third grade!" Jon exclaims loudly, causing Seb to poke his head out of the control-room and grin.

"I've never had a reason to show you guys it. That's why." He states smugly, outwardly enjoying Jon's incredulous expression. He disappears again momentarily, and then he is walking over to the garage-door and pressing the square button that opens it. After it opens successfully, he turns back towards us and grins. "Okay, Alec go get your car, and then we can _get this party started right_." He sings the last part lamely, causing the rest of us to laugh. Alec salutes him, before running out of the garage and back into the rain to retrieve his car.

Around five minutes later, Alec's car is pulling up in front of the now-open garage door and Alec is turning off the car. Jace, Jordan, and Jon all go out and help get the instruments from the car, while Maia, Izzy, and I go into the control-room to find places to sit down.

When we enter, we all simultaneously gasp. A large soundboard is placed onto a large, black table in front of the plexi-glass window, two plush office-chairs are placed in front of the soundboard, four giant bean-bags have been set in the back of the small room, and to top it all off, a vintage retro-fridge is located in the far-left corner of the room.

We all look at each other and grin, before throwing each of ourselves onto a bean-bag. I sigh in contentment and look out of the window, looking to see if the guys have finished unloading the car yet. The must be, because the garage-door is closing and I can slightly see figures moving around from my spot of the bean-bag.

I am brought back to Izzy and Maia, by someone pinching my side and somebody else slapping the back of my head. I wince and look quickly to both of my sides, trying to find the culprit for my unnecessary pain. Maia is looking at me innocently while Izzy glares at me fully, not even trying to hide the fact that she just slapped the absolute _shit_ out of my head. _Bitch…_

"Ow! What the fuck?!" I ask incredulously, death-glaring both of my supposed 'friends' harshly. They both just shrug and settle back down into their bean-bags, before responding.

"You should've been listening. As we were saying before," Izzy starts, her tone dripping with false-toxin. I roll my eyes and lean back on my own bean-bag, wanting her to get her speech over with already. "Do you guys _actually_ think that they'll be successful, or that they'll totally suck _ass?_" she inquires quietly; as if to not let the boys_, who are in a totally different room might I add_, hear her. I stay silent and look towards the ceiling in boredom. Maia clears her throat slightly and shifts unsurely in her seat.

"Well, truthfully?" she asks softly, waiting for Izzy's response before actually answering her question. Izzy nods vigorously and glances towards the door cautiously, causing me to roll my eyes. _We're in a sound-room, dipshit. You don't have to act like an axe-murderer is going to barge into the room if you accidentally hurt the guys' feelings. _Maia also looks towards the door, before sighing and slouching back into her seat. "I honestly think that they're going to sound like shit, but they've been really excited about this idea, so I'll support them for the time being." She states quietly, her head ducked into her chest and her arms lying limply by her sides. I sigh and stand up to stretch, shaking my head in exasperation the whole way. Izzy turns towards me sharply and narrows her eyes into menacing slits.

"Have something to say, _Clarissa?_" she practically hisses, causing me to wince internally at the sound of my full name. _Who pissed in her Cheerios this morning? _I sigh, again, and walk over to the soundboard casually.

"Nope." I pop the 'p' for extra effect, just to annoy her. "I just don't get why you guys are being so pessimistic about them forming a band. I mean, I didn't even _want_ to be the manager, but here I am. I still agreed to come, not that Jace really gave me a choice, but that's beside the point. I'm still supporting them fully. Not _'for the time being'._" I state hotly, completely over hearing them trash-talk my best-friend and brother.

Sometimes, I can get a little over-protective of my friends and family. _But that's really rare._ I hear Izzy mumble something under her breath and turn towards her pointedly.

"'_Have something to say, Isabelle?'"_ I ask mockingly. She glowers up at me from her spot on her bean-bag and sighs dramatically.

"I said, '_Sorry for voicing my opinions, Hitler.'"_ She states sarcastically. I bite my lip to keep my smile hidden, but I completely lose it when Maia snorts loudly. I start laughing hysterically, and soon we're all laughing._ For absolutely no reason at all. _

We do this whole charade often, believe it or not. The whole '_arguing and then laughing like the little maniacs that we are'_ thing, I mean. Like, we'll be having a very serious argument about a life-or-death situation, and then one of us will just randomly start laughing and the rest will soon follow. _Yeah, don't even ask…_

About a minute later, when we have seemed to calm ourselves down, Maia looks back and forth between us with a confused expression on her face.

"Why did we just start cackling like _fucking witches_?" she asks curiously, causing me to giggle and Izzy to make a confused noise in the back of her throat.

"I have _absolutely_ no idea." Izzy states dazedly. Maia looks towards me and raises an eyebrow, to which I respond my shrugging.

"Don't look at me. I just found the whole 'Hitler' remark hilarious. I'm not actually sure why though…" I trail off as the door to the control-room opens. The three of us look over towards the door, to see Seb and Jace standing there awkwardly.

"Um… We're going to get started… I guess…" Seb starts unsurely, looking down at the soundboard and back at Jace quickly. Jace sighs, like the drama-queen that he is, and walks further into the room.

"Clare, we need you to 'monitor' the soundboard; or something like that." He states plainly, grabbing my arm and dragging me over to the soundboard and pushing me down into one of the plush chairs. I scowl up at him and kick his shin harshly. _Sadly for me though, I can't kick worth shit._ He doesn't even wince as he winks at me and turns back towards Seb, who is watching me with careful eyes. "Are we ready to get started yet?" Jace asks impatiently. Seb sighs and nods reluctantly.

"Oh, Clary…" he starts as Jace starts to pull him out of the control-room. "Just don't press any buttons on the soundboard. It was expensive." And with that, Jace drags him out of the small room and back into the main part of the garage. I settle down into my seat with one final resigned sigh and wait for them to start.

* * *

_Oh. My. God. _

That's the only thing that is going through my mind as we all, save Seb since he lives at _his house_, make our way back to Alec's car. They were actually pretty good. I thought that it would be impossible to actually like this whole 'band' idea, but I have to give the boys credit. They can actually make decent music together.

Seb is amazing at the drums, Alec isn't half-bad at the bass, Jordan is alright on the guitar; hence the reason that we proclaimed that he be the back-up guitarist, Jon has been playing the electric guitar for years; so he's the lead-guitarist, and Jace, _not surprisingly_, sings like a sexy angel. _And no, it's not weird to think that about your best-friend… I think…_ All in all, they rocked. _Literally. _I was really surprised at their song choices though, I'll have to say.

Jace was in charge of choosing the first song that they 'cover', or whatever you call it, so the little dipshit had to choose one of my favorite songs. _I mean, I didn't want them to butcher it and ruin the song for me, but they surprised me. Again._

The song was '_The Giving Tree' _by _The Plain White T's, _so it wasn't very hard for them to play. Jace has a voice that sounds almost like a younger version of Jared Leto. _As I said, almost._ The guys really changed the format of the song too, so it sounded more punk-rock instead of the calming rhythm that it was originally.

Anyway, The Fallen was on their way to becoming something great; or as Maia put it, '_To destroy the eardrums of the innocent'._ Truth be told, they weren't that bad. I even made Izzy and Maia apologize to the guys after practice ended, because apparently, Jace and Seb overheard our earlier conversation and were 'hurt'. _Yeah, 'hurt' my ass._

I am brought out of my thoughts, by the car pulling up in front of The Institute. We all file out of the Alec's SUV and start towards the front door. As I am walking, I notice Jace come up to me and throw an arm over my shoulders. I lean into his side and wrap one of my arms around his waist lightly.

"Hey." I say casually, as we make our way through the lobby.

The Institute is a very _classy_ apartment building. Madame Dorthea must've had an obsession with marble when she had this place built, because the entire lobby is decorated with it. Marble floors, marble sculptures, marble this, and marble that. It's _everywhere, _except for the actual apartments, of course. All of our apartments are very large, like they have around five bedrooms in each one, but they are decorated like the outside of The Institute; plain and old-fashioned.

"Hey, Clare. What'd you think about practice today, huh? Was I any good?" Jace's teasing voice brings me back to reality. I look up at him and smile widely.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Yes you were. Where'd you learn to sing like that, _Asshole_?" I exclaim, while pushing him slightly away from me. He chuckles and lightly shoves me in return.

"I told you before, I'm awesome at _everything_. Everything!" he declares triumphantly, stepping away from me again and gesturing around him wildly. I giggle and shake my head at him.

"Not _everything_. You're afraid of ducks. Y'know, the small, yellow creatures that happen to inhabit Central Park." I hint at him playfully, knowing fully well of what his response will be. His eyes grow wide for a split-second, before he glares at me and presses the button for the elevator. I look around and notice that we are the only two that are left in the lobby, meaning that the rest of the group has already gone upstairs whilst we were talking. Well, Alec, Izzy, and Jon that is; Jordan took his own car and drove Maia home already. The door to the elevator opens before Jace can respond and we get in quickly. Jace presses the button with a '3' on it, for our floor, and leans against one of the walls of the elevator.

"You just won't let that go, will you?" he questions tiredly, like my existence is too exhausting for him to bear. _Love you too, Dick-wad. _

"No. I will not let go of the one thing that can bring Jace Herondale back down to my level." I state, not noticing my mistake until it is too late. He smirks smugly at me and straightens up, before walking over to me and craning his neck so that we are staring into each other's eyes. _Have I ever mentioned how absolutely captivating his eyes are… Shut up, Clary! Now's not the time!_

"Well, that's going to be a _little_ hard for you, Sweetheart. I mean you're like, what? Five-foot? Maybe five-foot-two?" he asks devilishly, grinning down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

_Again with the eyes… Dammit, Clarissa! Think good thoughts; not bad ones about your _best-friend_! Whom, might I add, has a mother-fucking girlfriend, you slut. _I sigh and back up against the far wall of the elevator, needing to create space between me and Jace before I do something stupid. _I need to get my head on straight. This is Jace you're talking about. Jace! You need to start thinking clearly and stop these dangerous thoughts, before they get out of control. _

You see, Jace has a girlfriend. Although not a very nice one, _translation: she's a bitch, _Jace has asked me several times to be nice to her. And I try, but she is the epitome of the word 'harlot'. She's basically the school slut, but she only sleeps with Jace. Well, at least that's how it's been ever since they started dating. Said whore's name is Kaelie Whitewillow. _I know right? Who the fuck spells their name like that? But whatever… _

Anyway, to sum things up, we hate each other. Just like all of the other cliché movies, where the best-friend has a girlfriend and the other best-friend hates her guts. The only difference between my life and one of those movies though, is that I am not 'in love' with Jace. I'm not really 'in love' with anybody.

I literally decided that I am going to become a recluse for the rest of my life around three years ago. That was when I fell 'in love' with David Boreanaz. _Don't judge me for thinking that an older man is hot. He is amazing. Sadly though, he's 45 and I'm only 16. My life sucks ass… _I was crushed after I google searched him, like a stalker, and found out that he has a wife and two kids_. My love-life will never be the same…_

The elevator doors open, signaling to us that we are at our floor, so I quickly make my way out of the metal box and head straight for my apartment. I vaguely hear Jace calling for me to stop, but I just unlock my door and go into my apartment.

"I'm really tired right now, Jace. I'll talk to you later or something, okay?" I say to him before I close the door completely. I hear him inhale a deep breath, before sighing and nodding.

"Alright. Call me later please, Clare." He says in a resigned tone, before going into his own apartment and allowing me to close my door completely.

I quickly make my way to my room and flop down onto my bed, making sure to draw my curtains closed beforehand. I sigh into one of my pillows and finally let my mind relax. _Where the hell are all of these thoughts coming from, and why am I starting to think this way now?_

* * *

**So… yeah. There's the next chapter. Enjoy! Just in case you guys were wondering, I will be doing the next chapter in Jace's POV. Yay! :D**

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for the plot and my ideas.**

**Notes from the story:**

_**David Boreanaz: he plays 'Booth' is bones. He's amazing and I love him!**_

_**Jared Leto: he is the lead-singer for 30 Seconds to Mars.**_

**Okay, that's all I got. Bye. :D**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	5. Chapter 5

_Jace POV_

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm blares loudly into my ear, officially startling me out of my peaceful slumber. I groggily sit up and turn off the alarm-clock, blinking rapidly all the while. I groan tiredly and sit up, glancing at the alarm-clock on the way. 7:15am. I sigh and get out of my warm bed, and then go into my bathroom. I shut and lock the door, before stripping down and out of my clothes and hopping into the shower. _I must look presentable for when I go scare the shit out of Clary_, I think with a smile on my face. I turn the water on to the hottest temperature and let my mind relax momentarily.

You see, I find endless amusement in waking Clary up before she needs to be. It really makes my day when she walks around school looking like a zombie; _in the cutest way, of course. _Besides, she ends up having to lean on me to stay upright most of the time, and I can't deny that I enjoy it. She literally is like a cute little kitten when she cuddles up to me unconsciously. _Wow, I sound like a mother-fucking pansy right now…_

Clary and I have been best-friends ever since I moved into her apartment building when we were both 10-years-old. She basically knows me inside and out, and I her. We do everything together; from getting into numerous detentions because of talking during class, to setting her dad's car on fire on Labor Day. _You don't even want to know._ We're kind of like the lame version of Zack and Cody Martin. Except, Clary's a girl and we don't live in a hotel; though The Institute could be classified as a really crappy hotel. _That you live in?_

I sigh at my mental rambling, before turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. I wrap a towel around my hips loosely and take a moment to take in my appearance in the large mirror that has been placed above the sink. Dark golden eyes, silky blonde hair that falls just past my ears, lean and muscular build, and you can't forget the abs. In truth, I am exceedingly handsome. Some might even classify me as 'totally fuck-able'. _I would if I could, but I can't, so I won't,_ as I always say. I smirk at myself and wink cheekily, before walking out of the bathroom to go get dressed.

I lazily pull on a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of dark-washed skinny jeans. _Shower: Check. Get dressed: Check. Annoy the absolute fuck out of Clary: No-Check. _I grab my school-bag, dry my hair off slightly so that it's not dripping onto my shoulders, and glance at the clock again, before starting towards the my window. _Okay, so it's currently 7:30. School starts at 8:00, so that gives my about 15 minutes to wake Clary up and get into Alec's car in order to be on time. I can do that, _I think as I climb across the small gap that separates me and Clary's rooms.

When I am safely on the ground again, I quietly look around Clary's room. Same bright-green walls, large white comforter placed onto her bed, art supplies laid out messily onto her old oak desk, and band-memorabilia scattered everywhere. She has a slight obsession with 30 Seconds to Mars' lead singer, so yeah. _In my opinion, I'm hotter than him by a landslide, but that's just me; and the entire earth's population, but whatever. Personally, I think that I sing better than him too, so-_

I am interrupted out of my internal self-praise, by the door to her bathroom opening. In my evaluation of Clary's bedroom, I forgot to look for the one thing that I actually came here for. Clary. She walks out of her bathroom with a towel wrapped around her small body and another one around her head. She really has grown within the past two years. I mean, she hasn't gotten any taller; hence all of the small-jokes that I crack daily, but her body has started to form itself into an actual girl's body. _Translation: She has boobs now._ She looks up, startled, when she notices me standing in the middle of her room and gasps sharply. When she realizes that I'm not an axe-murderer, _or am I, _she sighs and walks over to her dresser to get clothes.

"What're you doing here, Jace?" she asks playfully, already knowing my answer.

You see, I come into her room almost every morning. I wake her up because she never remembers to set an alarm like a normal person, she cusses at me thoroughly, I laugh, she gets dressed after shooing me out of her room, and then we eat breakfast together with her parents before Alec calls me and we leave for school. It's almost like an unsaid routine, since we do it every morning. That is, except for _this_ morning. _Why the fuck is she awake already? Is this the apocalypse?!_

"Why are you awake?" I ask curiously, while flinging myself down onto her bed. She sighs and grabs a pile of clothing, before disappearing into her bathroom once more.

"I was doing some research about getting you guys a gig, and I just lost track of time." She calls through the door, her voice slightly muffled. I nod to myself and grin.

"So…" I trail off curiously, waiting for her to continue talking. I hear her giggle and I smile to myself. _I love that sound. It's just so cute… Stop! You're being a pussy again!_

"I got 'The Fallen' a gig at Pandemonium on Friday night at 8:00. It's apparently one of those 'upcoming stars' events, so you guys will be performing in front of some high-end scouts; kind of like in football, except for music." She explains, causing me to stand up from her bed and grab my phone out of my bag.

"Thank you! You rock, Clare!" I declare, while texting the rest of the guys the good news. She exits the bathroom, now completely dressed in her regular t-shirt and jeans, and gathers her things for school as I finish up texting the guys.

"That means that you guys will have to practice really hard though. You only have four days until you have to perform; and it's you guys' first gig, might I add." She says casually, as she picks up her black messenger-bag and slings at onto her shoulder. I nod and hoist my own bag up onto my shoulder, before starting towards the door that leads to the rest of her apartment.

"Okay. We should be good enough off by then. I mean, we_ have_ been practicing for about two weeks now." I state confidently. She smiles up at me and nods, before joining me by the door and leading us into the hallway towards the kitchen.

It's true, that we have been practicing for two weeks. Things have come along really well so far, we're even going to start trying to write our own songs instead of just doing covers soon. According to Clary, our band isn't as bad as she originally thought that it would be. She even complimented us on our talent and bought us all ice-cream last week after every practice. _We practiced every day last week, so she bought us ice-cream a lot. Needless to say, she's going to go broke if she keeps it up. Not that I'm complaining, but…_

"Are you hungry?" she asks, successfully bringing me out of my thoughts. I nod vigorously and grin.

"I'm always hungry. Do you even have to ask anymore?" I ask teasingly. She just sticks her tongue out at me and grabs a box of Pop-tarts out of the pantry.

"Your meal, Sire." She exclaims while handing me the box, bowing lowly to get her point across.

"Why thank you, Peasant. Now, fetch the toaster and we shall toast these tarts!" I declare dramatically, pointing a finger towards the toaster that is sat on the counter behind her. She furrows her brows and straightens up, looking at me weirdly the entire time.

"Why? You don't need to toast them. You just eat them raw…" she says unsurely, looking between me and the toaster several times during her speech. I chuckle and ruffle her hair, just to annoy her.

"Nope. You have to toast them, or you're eating them alive. Haven't you seen the commercials?" I inquire as seriously as I can, while moving past her and plugging in the toaster. I have to bite my lip to keep the laugh that threatens to break free when I see her horrified face at bay.

"Where the fuck-" she starts, only to get cut off by an amused voice behind her.

"Language, Clarissa." Her father scolds mockingly, as he walks into the kitchen and starts pouring himself a cup of coffee. I see her visually wince at the sound of her full name and smirk to myself. _She has never liked her name, for as long as I've known her. _Her father looks between us both and raises an eyebrow at the Pop-tarts, which I have already placed into the toaster. "Why are you cooking them? You just eat them raw…" he mumbles under his breath. I sigh. _Like father, like daughter._ Clary smiles sheepishly at him and sits down at the large breakfast-bar.

"Sorry, Daddy." She says innocently, blinking up at him angelically. I roll my eyes and turn my back to them, watching the toaster for when it finishes cooking.

"So," Mr. Morgenstern starts. "What are you kids up to today?" he asks, his tone sounding particularly bored with where this conversation is going. The Pop-tarts spring up from the metal box, so I quickly try to retrieve them from the scalding toaster.

"Nothing much. Go to school, talk back to teachers, and get detention for the eighth time this month. Y'know, the usual." I hear Clary state casually as I drop the Pop-tarts down onto a paper-plate, because the Morgenstern's don't like to use any of their actual plates. Apparently it saves them from having to do the dishes or something. Who really knows? _What about the trees, huh? How do you think they feel about you wasting their manufactured corpses; just so that you guys don't have to wash a couple of dishes? In the dishwasher, might I add._ Mr. Morgenstern chuckles and I turn around to face them again, baring my freshly-toasted treats.

"Now, I highly doubt that you guys have been in detention _eight_ times this month. I've only gotten three calls at work from the school. Get you facts straight." He says teasingly, taking a sip of his coffee and moving towards the front door. I take an unreasonably large bight out of my Pop-tart and hand the other one to Clary, who lifts both eyebrows up at me and hesitantly takes my offering. I swallow my food and lean against the countertop, while looking thoughtfully into the distance. _For suspense, I assure you. _

"No," I start mock-thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure that we've been in Wayland's cell-block at leastfive times this month. _At least._" I state playfully, watching Clary with an amused expression as she unsurely takes a small bite out of her Pop-tart. She chews for a good minute, before nodding her approval in my direction and taking another bite. "I told you that they're better when you cook them." I declare quietly, sending a knowing smirk in her direction. She swallows, pokes her tongue out at me, and stands up from her spot at the counter, before picking up her bag and disappearing into the hallway that leads to the bedrooms momentarily.

"Well, I sure hope not." Mr. Morgenstern says lightly, picking up his briefcase and adjusting his jacket before opening the door that leads to the rest of The Institute. I nod in his direction and smile at him as he walks out of the door.

"Bye, Mr. Morgenstern." I call out to him. He groans and sticks his head back into the apartment momentarily, scowling at me mockingly.

"Don't call me that! How many times do I have to tell you; it's Val or Valentine. I'm too young to be called that." He practically whines, causing me to chuckle and nod.

"Alright, Valley Boy." I say brightly, smiling cheekily at him. He rolls his eyes and sighs tiredly.

"I'll never understand why my daughter tolerates you, Jace." he says quietly, more to himself than to me. I full out laugh this time and straighten up from my position against the counter, as he starts to close the door.

"You know you love me, Valley Boy." I call teasingly, hearing his laugh just before the door closes.

Clary returns to the kitchen about five minutes later with Jon I tow. He looks like death-warmed-over, what with the dark circles under his eyes and his mussed hair. I sling my bag back up onto my shoulder and quirk an eyebrow up at his dark expression.

"What's wrong, Frankenstein? Did your stitches come undone?" I inquire playfully, pushing completely off of the counter and walking towards the front door. He just grunts and picks up an apple, before my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I pull it out casually, while Clary and Jon gather their bags, and open the new text.

_**From: Annoying- stick-up-the-ass- Brother (a.k.a. Alec)**_

'_**Get your golden-ass out here. Pronto. We're going to be late!'**_

I sigh and look towards Clary, motioning her towards the door.

"C'mon, Peasants. The princess has requested our presence; immediately." I exclaim dramatically, gesturing grandly towards the now-open front door. Clary rolls her eyes and hikes up her bag, before waltzing out of the apartment. Jon however, glares at me and throws his apple at my head, before stomping out of the door and towards the elevator. I wince and rub my head as I shut the door. _Was it something that I said?_

* * *

When Alec's car pulls up to the school, we all let out a simultaneous groan. _Why are we even here?_ I whine to myself internally. We all pile out of the car and start towards the building, not forgetting to send glares at anything and everything that gets in our path.

There are reasons as to why our group has remained together for so long. For one: we all have completely different personalities, so nobody has to be worried about being replaced. Number two: none of us let people talk shit to us. I'm pretty sure that everyone, save Clary, has physically handled their enemies. Clary though, she's the precious one in the group.

You see, there's Maia and Izzy; who could kill you with one blow to the throat, Seb and Jon; who are on the football team, Jordan; who works at a gym in order to pay for his rent because he dropped out of high-school, Alec; who has been taking karate classes ever since he was able to walk, and me; who is naturally awesome at everything and has abs of steel. _Yes, praise me._ Then, you have the butterfly of the group, otherwise known as Simon, and Clary, who could only fight an attacker off for so long before they would pick her up and throw her out of a window. _Yeah, I know. That was just a little too morbid to think about, but hey. It's true._

We storm through the hallways and eventually split off to go to our own classes. Clary and I stop at our lockers, because they're right next to each other, before slowly making our way to our first class. We have all of the same classes, so I get to tease her all day. It's not that bad for her though, despite what she says, she secretly enjoys our banter too.

We walk silently into our first class of the day, English, and take our seats as the rest of the class files in after us. I turn towards her after a minute to start a conversation, only to find her deeply immersed into a drawing. _As always, _I think amusedly. I slightly lean towards her desk to see what it is that she is drawing and immediately smile at the sight that is in front of my eyes.

She has drawn me, of all things. _Me._ I am squatting before a ledge and have wings sprouting out from my back. My eyes are cast downward and my hair appears to be windblown. In all truths, it's amazing.

This isn't the first time that I've caught her drawing me, of course. Clary draws almost everything that she sees. Whether it's The Institute, or a creepy homeless dude, she's drawn it. No matter how many times I have seen her artwork though, it still dumbfounds me at the amount of talent that she has. I can't even tell you how many of her drawings I have stored in the bottom of my desk-drawers; all of them are absolutely beautiful. _Like her… Shut up! We're not starting this now!_

You see, I've recently been getting odd thoughts about a certain red-head. Like I'll just be eating lunch, and all of a sudden I'm thinking obsessively about her hair or her lips. At first I thought that I was just sleep deprived, but when the thoughts continued for about six months, I started to get worried. I even looked up 'thought manipulation' on google, but I seriously doubt that I am being possessed by some sort of demon. Of course, the only reason that I have for thinking things like that, are because I have recently become obsessed with the show _Supernatural, _so… Yeah.

Anyway, something's seriously wrong with me; especially when I start thinking about my _best-friend, _when I have a _girlfriend_. _Yeah, I'm really messed-up._

Kaelie has been my girlfriend for about five months now. We met at a club at the beginning of summer, and I don't have the heart to break up with her yet. I usually don't 'date', but I decided to try having a relationship for once. You know, instead of retaining my reputation as a man-whore. She goes to a different high-school, that's all the way on the other side of the city, so I don't get to see her a lot during the week. In fact, the last time that I actually spoke to her in person was before we formed the band. She texts me like an obsessive stalker though, so we have 'communicated' since then. _I guess?_

I am brought out of my thoughts by the door to the classroom opening and Mr. Wayland entering the room. I smile down softly at my little Red, before turning towards the board and preparing for another lecture from the warden. _Let's just get this over with…_

* * *

__**Okay, so the first thing that I have to say is: SORRY. I'm so sorry for the late update. I feel horrible about it, but my computer decided to be an asshole and not let me access my files and… Anyway, it sucks. **

**Fair Warning: NEVER BUY A TOSHIBA LAPTOP! They suck ass. :(**

**There's the next chapter, enjoy!**

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for the plot and my ideas.**

**Thank you for all of the positive feedback. (And your honesty) :D**

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	6. Chapter 6

_Clary POV_

The crowd at Pandemonium roars loudly in my ears. I smile at the sight of the all-ages club's inhabitants dancing and look back towards the guys, who are all preparing their instruments for when they get called up onto the stage.

If you haven't gathered it yet, we are at Pandemonium for the guys' very first gig. Tonight's basically an Open Mic Night, except for it is only for bands. The club's manager apparently is friends with some big-time recording company agents, so hopefully the guys will catch one of their eyes. We are all standing on the side of the stage and are helping the guys get ready for their performance.

Izzy and Maia are watching with mild disinterest, as the guys mess around and fidget nervously in their make-shift huddle. I silently take a headcount of the guys, just to make sure that everyone's here, and sigh when I realize that one is missing. I walk over to the circle of boys and duck underneath some of their arms in order to stand in the middle of them. The all look down at me with questioning gazes, causing me to roll my eyes at them. _Damn shortness._

"Hey, guys? Would any of you happen to know where Douche-face is this fine evening?" I inquire sarcastically, though my question is dead-serious. They all stare at me blankly and I sigh deeply. _I forgot that they're slow. My bad._ "Jace? Do any of you know where he is?" I ask tiredly, rolling my eyes at the group of teenagers in front of me. Silence greets me momentarily, before Jordan raises a hand up into the air; resembling a third-grader. I shake my head exasperatedly, before nodding towards his raised hand; signaling for him to start speaking.

"He went over to the bar, I think. Said something about Kaelie being there." He says helpfully, pointing towards the bar that is located at the opposite side of the club from where we are at. I nod slightly and start making my way towards the door that leads back out into the main part of the club.

"Okay, I'll go get him. You guys continue to get ready and I'll be back in a minute." I state, not giving them time to respond before I am darting out of the door and running over to the bar.

Since Pandemonium is an all-ages club, they keep the alcohol locked up behind the bar. The only way that you are allowed to buy an alcoholic drink, is if you show one of the bartenders your I.D. It's pretty much just like any other club, only the staff is stricter about selling drinks to underage teens.

As I approach the bar, I immediately spot a familiar head of golden hair. He is standing in between a pair of legs and has his hands on the leg's owners' hips. I walk closer to him, only to find out that the leg's owner is none other than Kaelie. Her platinum-blonde hair lays straight onto her shoulders and her face is caked with an ass-load of too-dark foundation. I roll my eyes internally at her appearance, trying to keep the obvious disgust off of my face at the sight of her barely-there dress. The dress could probably fit me, so you know that it doesn't belong on someone who's almost an entire foot taller than me. Jace leans close to her and presses his lips to hers, while I continue to near the couple.

I slide up right next to the oblivious pair and lean against the counter of the bar, looking down at my nails in apparent boredom. After they continue to make-out for a minute, I finally get fed-up and cough; quite loudly too. They immediately separate and look over to me in surprise. Kaelie glares at me threateningly, while Jace smiles unabashedly and steps back slightly from Kaelie; his hands still placed onto her hips though.

"When you two are finished with your unnatural grope-fest, Jace is needed on the stage. Like, now." I say sweetly, smiling up at them with false-brightness. Jace sighs quietly and, despite Kaelie's efforts to make him stay, removes himself from in between the girl's legs.

"Alright, Clare. Let's go." He tells me tiredly, as if I just ruined his fun. _Well, you probably did…_ "See you later, Kay." He whispers to 'Kay', before kissing her again and starting to make his way towards the door that says 'Stage Entrance'. I roll my eyes at Kaelie's pouting look and head after him, trying not to lose him in the chaos of the crowd.

I finally catch up to him by the door that leads to the stage and stand in front of said door before he can open it. I lean my back against it and cross my arms over my chest stubbornly, staring up at him with an expectant expression plastered onto my face. He sighs deeply and runs a hand through his hair, causing me to bite my lip unconsciously. _What I would give to run my hands through his hair… No! Bad Clary! _I internally scold myself for allowing my mind to wander, before clearing my throat and focusing on his face again.

"What's up with you?" I ask, not kind in the least. He looks down at me intently and lets his eyes roam over my face, before speaking.

"Why don't you like Kaelie?" he asks, quite bluntly if you ask me. I shrug and sigh dramatically.

"It's not that I don't like her; it's just that she's kind of a bitch to me. That's all." I explain plainly, not allowing any of my hatred towards his girlfriend seep into my voice. He nods, not believing my excuse but letting it go all the same, and motions towards the door that I am still leaning on.

"Okay, if you say so. Anyway, can you move so that I can get ready? I'm going to be late, and then I'll have to face Jon's wrath. And if I'm going down, I'm dragging you down with me." he says playfully, though the threat completely serious. I roll my eyes and slouch against the door further, trying to see just how much I can push his buttons.

"I don't know, I'm pretty comfy right here." I pause to smile slyly up at him. "What're you going to do about it?" I ask playfully, daring him with my eyes to make a move. He grins wickedly down at me, and then, before I can even blink, I am being thrown over his shoulder and carried through the now-open door.

I internally roll my eyes at myself. You never, _and I mean ever, _play the daring game with Jace. He'll win every time, and then you'll be stuck running down the street with antlers on your head or, as I am currently, being carried out of the way and getting tickled to an inch of your life.

To my surprise though, he makes no move to tickle me. He only caries me into the large room that is located behind the stage, with me complaining for him to 'put me down' of course, and then sets me down finally when we reach the guys. He pats my head lightly, _like I'm a mother-fucking dog, _and joins the group of boys. I can faintly hear the current band playing loudly on the stage, so the guys must be up soon. I huff and reach up to smooth down my hair, before also walking over to the guys. They al look up at me as I approach and smile nervously. None of them make a move to speak, and I finally get tired of the awkward silence and them staring at me expectantly, so I roll my eyes exasperatedly and groan.

"What? Why are you all looking at me like that?" I inquire confusedly, still not comprehending their silent messages. Jordan awkwardly clears his throat and smiles down at me.

"We thought that you were going to give us a speech, or some shit like that." He explains sheepishly, sounding slightly embarrassed. I furrow my brows and look around at the five boys that are standing in front of me again.

"Why the fuck would I give you guys a speech?" I ask curiously. Jace shakes his head in peripheral, causing me to look at him pointedly and gesture for him to speak. He smiles slightly at my impatience, but otherwise starts talking.

"You're the manager. We kind of figured that you'd give us one of those inspirational speeches that coaches do before a game. Y'know, like before a football game?" he says nonchalantly, as if I should understand where he is coming from. I roll my eyes and crack my neck, _like a lady,_ before looking back up into his eyes hopelessly.

"No, Jace. I don't 'know'. Why do I need to give you guys a speech about winning? This isn't even a contest." I state tiredly, already done with his confusing mind-games. "Although, I could give you guys a speech about your performance?" I add, an evil-plan already forming in my head. They all nod and smile at me encouragingly.

"Sure, whatever you want to do." Jon says, nodding towards me in acknowledgement. I bite back a smirk and nod slightly.

"Alright, here goes nothing." I pause to create effect, before scowling and starting my lecture.

"If you guys don't succeed tonight, I'll castrate all of you in your sleep; with safety scissors that have been dipped in saltwater." I start talking in a deep, gym-teacher-like voice. "You Pansies need to grow some balls and man-up in order to dominate the stage. If you can't do that tonight, you better learn how to piss like the proper ladies that you are. You understand me?" by now I am pacing in front of the dumbfounded group of boys and continue talking without giving them time to answer. "Good. I always liked the submissive ones. Anyway, get out there and kick some ass, or else say goodbye to your 'precious jewels'." I finish off my speech with a cruel laugh and a menacing smile, before halting my pacing and nodding to myself in mock-thought.

"Yep. That's a keeper. I should record that and sell it online. I can see it now, 'Clary's Inspirational Speeches; four for five dollars with our special coupon'." I mumble to myself, though loud enough so that they can all hear me clearly, while looking out into the distance with a slight smile on my face.

I look back at the group of boys, wondering why they've been so quiet, only to find five pale faces staring at me in horror. I burst out laughing when I see that even _Jace_ looks scared. I try to control my laughter, but the guys look downright terrified at my outburst, so I just end up falling onto the floor and laughing hysterically. Every time that I look at their faces, I start laughing all over again.

Maia and Izzy walk over to our group and give me weird looks, most likely wondering why I sound like a dying cat. I am able to pick myself up off of the ground and stand, but I'm still giggling like a maniac.

"Why is she laughing like a psychopath?" Izzy inquires curiously. Jordan shudders and eyes me warily, before speaking.

"I think that she just threatened to neuter us is we didn't do well tonight." He explains unsurely, looking around at the guys for back-up. They all nod in agreement, never taking their eyes off of me. I giggle again and shake my head at the memory of their scared expressions.

"You guys should've seen your faces. _Classic_!" I manage to say through my giggles. Maia raises an eyebrow up at me and shakes her head slowly.

"I'm not sure if I even_ want_ to know what you're talking about. I'll never understand your humor." She mumbles to herself, still shaking her head at me. Izzy nods her consent and sighs tiredly.

"Yeah, Clary. You need to get a better humor. All of this morbidity shit is starting to wear on my nerves." She states sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Maia. I take in a deep breath and bite my lip to stop giggling finally, before turning back to the group of boys.

"Not sorry. Okay, back to business," I start lightly, while looking around the group of boys and taking notice of their instruments. Jon has his electric-guitar slung over his back, Jordan also has his guitar slung over his shoulder, Alec is idly fingering the strings of his bass, Seb is twirling his drumsticks around his fingers expertly, and Jace, _of course,_ has a golden microphone nestled into his palm. I sigh exasperatedly and walk closer to him, pointing at the golden microphone whilst walking.

"What in the _absolute hell_ is that, Jace?" I ask, my tone coming out slightly amused with a hint of incredulity. He smiles brightly down at me, flashing me a glimpse of his chipped incisor, and tosses the microphone up slightly into the air before catching it in his grasp again.

"Oh, this? It's just the most awesome thing that's been invented since sliced-bread." He explains, smiling cheekily at me and nodding to himself in self-satisfaction. I groan at his overused line and shake my head slowly at him.

"No. Just, no. First of all, that isn't your line. Second of all, you look like a wanna-be Disney star. It's sad and, truthfully, revolting." I reprimand, smiling sadly up at him in mock-disappointment. He takes on an air of false-hurt and sniffs indignantly.

"How _dare_ you treat me this way?! This is a requirement for the arts. You should know; your _mother_ is an _artiste_." He cries dramatically, pronouncing 'artiste' with extra, as I imagine he would call it, _pizzazz._ I roll my eyes and bite back a smile before gesturing towards the stage, where the announcer of the evening is currently walking back in stage to announce the next performer.

During our little idiotic conversation, I didn't notice that the band that was playing had finished and was making their way around our group. Like the model-citizens that we are, we are standing in the middle of the exit that leads off of the stage, so the performers have to squeeze around us. _Yes, we're that rude. Deal with it. _

"I think that you guys are about to go on." I state plainly, smiling encouragingly up at the five boys in front of me. They all immediately look determined and nod their understanding.

"Alright, let's do this. We don't want to be castrated later, do we?" Jon says; playfully adding the last part in a teasing tone. They all nod their consent and quickly checking their instruments again. I smile up at their focused faces, before placing my hand out in front of me.

"Okay, if we're seriously going to be doing the whole 'band-thing', we have to do the totally cliché pre-concert cheer." I explain when I notice the odd looks that they are giving my outstretched hand. The guys all place one of their hands on top of mine hesitantly, as if touching me would permanently sell their souls to Azazel, and look at me expectantly. I quickly glance towards the stage, where the announcer has just finished telling the crowd that 'The Fallen' will be performing next, before turning back to the guys with another encouraging smile plastered onto my face.

"You guys will do great. Just do your best and, I know that I probably sound like a cheesy T-ball coach but, have fun. Got it?" I tell them, looking at all of them in the eyes briefly. They all nod, _again; they must really be into nodding today,_ and I take that as a signal to do the whole 'let's-throw-our-hands-up-into-the-air-like-they-do-in-the-stupid-movies' thing.

After we do that, the announcer comes off of the stage and walks over to where we have moved our group, but only slightly out of the way of the exit to the stage. _We have a reputation to uphold, after all._ The announcer has slicked back brown hair, kind blue eyes, glasses perched on top of the bridge of his nose, and is wearing a dark suit. He smiles widely at us as he approaches and nods his head slightly towards the guys, gaining on a friendly front. When he finally reaches us, he holds his hand out towards the guys and grins at them with a father-like fondness.

"Hello, I'm Luke Garroway. I'm the 'supervisor', if you will, of this whole event." He explains kindly, taking turns shaking hands with all of the guys, before turning towards me. "And you must be Clary, the nice young lady that I spoke to over the phone." He states, taking my hand and grasping it warmly between his two large ones. I smile politely up at him and nod.

You see, I called him on Monday earlier this week after seeing his advertisement on Facebook for an open-mic-night on Friday night. The ad said to call a certain number if you wanted to perform, so that's exactly what I did. I can't say that I'm _not_ surprised at Luke's appearance, though. I was picturing some old-guy with anger issues, but he is definitely _not_ old. He couldn't be much older than my mother, and she was just barely thirty-seven, so he was relatively young.

"Yep, that's me." I say, retracting my hand back to my side after he lets it go. He lets his gaze run over our group quickly, before getting a look of sudden realization on his face.

"Oh, shoot! You boys are up in," he pauses to glance down at his watch, which is rather expensive-looking might I add, before continuing. "about one minute. Good luck." He finishes with one final smile, and then retreats to the side of the stage where he has been sitting during performances all night. I turn back to the guys and take notice immediately of their worried faces. I smile reassuringly, trying to ease their stress.

"You guys ready?" I ask, still smiling up at them. Jace nods for all of them, determination laced into all of his features, and grins down to me confidently.

"Yup." He says, being sure to pop the 'P'. "We're going to be awesome out there. Right guys?" he inquires rhetorically to the rest of the guys. They all still look unsure, but nod none the less. My smile widens at his apparent ego seeping into his words and I chuckle slightly.

"Alrighty then. Get your asses out there and _dominate the stage."_ I say, lowering my voice for the last part into a poor excuse of a manly-voice. This gains small smiles out of the boys, save Jace who was already grinning, and they nod again in my direction. _Seriously, what's up with all of the nodding tonight? Are they diseased? Should I be worried?_

The guys start to walk out onto the stage nervously, and I can't help but watch after them worriedly. _They'll do fine, Clary. Stop acting like you're their mother! They're big-boys; they can handle a little crowd by themselves._ I internally scold myself for acting like their keepers. I sigh and bite my lip before heading over to the side of the stage to watch their performance.

I see Jon and Jordan plugging in their guitars, Alec plugging in his bass, Seb sitting own on the little stool that has been placed behind the large drum-set, and Jace looking out at the crowd with his cordless-microphone dangling loosely in his hand. I see Luke stand up from his seat and walk back out onto the stage in my peripheral, causing my attention to turn fully onto the man. He smiles out at the crowd of teenagers and makes a sweeping gesture towards the guys, who are watching him intently.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce _The Fallen_." He bellows loudly into his mic, before quickly running off of the stage again and sitting down in his seat. I train my eyes onto the stage and watch eagerly as the lights in the club point directly at the guys. Jace smiles slightly to himself, before bringing his mic up to his lips.

"Hey. We're _The Fallen _and this is our version of _Criminal by Framing Hanley._" He announces into the mic, before nodding towards Jon and bobbing his head to the steady strum of his guitar. If I had looked closer before now, I would have noticed that a mic-stand was set up in front of Jordan, but I didn't so I was in for a big surprise when he started to do back-up vocals.

Jordan, surprisingly, has a really good voice. Of course, not as smooth or as angelic as Jace, but he still has a really nice voice. The two boys harmonize really well together, and suddenly I'm disappointed that they wouldn't allow me to hear their practices before tonight.

You see, Jace basically banned me from coming to their practices for tonight. Apparently he wanted it to be a 'surprise', but I could beg to differ. _He was just being a douche. His douche-level has outranked even the douchiest-douche of them all._ He even went to the extent of locking me I my apartment while they left to go to Seb's for band-practice.

In the beginning I was pissed and tried to escape, but the little asshole paid Max to make me stay put. The kid's got the whole 'play with me because my own siblings don't' thing down to a science. First it started off with the simple doe-eyes, then it escalated to him pouting in front of my door with doe-eyes, and finally he managed to make himself cry, while still staring at me with the adorable doe-eyes, and I eventually ended up playing Black-Jack with him until Jace and the rest of the group that lives in our apartment building got back form practice. Just let me tell you, that kid shouldn't be as good as he is at a gambling game at the age of nine. Either Jace has been teaching him more of his evil-cheating-techniques, or Max just enjoys watching me get destroyed and taking all of my Cheetos. _Yes, we gamble with Cheetos. Sue me… Actually don't; the reason that we play with Cheetos is because I'm broke, so…_

I am pulled out of my thoughts by the song ending. Jace is panting lightly and grinning widely down at the crowd, which is roaring so loud that my ears start to ring. I start clapping and cheering them on excitedly, ecstatic that they got such a positive response from the crowd. Luke jumps up from his seat and runs out onto the stage, laughing and waving his hands up in the air along with the crowd's energy.

"Wow. That was absolutely incredible. Was it just me, or are these boys awesome?" he questions the crowd, causing them to cheer even louder than they already were. Luke laughs under his breath and points back towards the guys, who are starting to unplug their instruments and make their way off-stage. "Give it up for _The Fallen_!" He calls into the mic loudly, smiling and nodding the guys off before announcing the next band that is to perform.

When the guys are completely off of the stage and we have moved our group over to the side of the remotely large room that is to the side of the stage, they all simultaneously tackle me into a group-hug. I have to bite back a scream when I see five teenage boys hurdling themselves at me, but manage to keep it at bay with the knowledge that we are indoors and someone would probably think that an axe-murderer is on the loose.

They suddenly start jumping up and down, with me still trapped in the middle of them, causing me to laugh and try to escape. The guys eventually separate, allowing me to get out of their limb-made prison, and they all look down at me with huge smiles on their faces. I take in a deep breath and smile up at them proudly, before speaking.

"So… Good job, guys." I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but a large grin escapes me when my eyes land on Jace's excited face.

"We. Were. Awesome." He states, sounding completely confident in his statement. The guys all nod in agreement, causing me to chuckle and tell them to 'pack up their shit' so that we can go meet up with our parents and go get some food.

* * *

We ended up convincing our parents to take us to Taki's, a local restaurant that serves pancakes to die for 24/7, before splitting off into our separate directions to go home. My dad, because my mom is out of town for an art exhibit, complimented Jon on his performance and said that he was proud of him. Least to say, Jon was really happy. _Turns out, maybe this won't be so bad after all…_

* * *

**Hello, fellow humans. **_**Unless you're a robot…**_** Anyway, there's the next chapter. Enjoy! **

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for the plot and my ideas**_**. You know, all of the boring stuff like that.**_** :D**

**Extra info:**

_**Azazel: Basically a demon. Yeah… I'm weird…**_

_**Criminal by Framing Hanley: Listen to it, you know you want to. I love it!**_

**Well...That's all I got for now… M'kay bye. :D**

**Thanks for reviewing and telling me your thoughts. :P**

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	7. Chapter 7

_Jace POV_

I jump, completely startled, when I hear a loud knocking resound through my room. I spin around in my desk-chair and look towards my door with my eyebrows furrowed. _What the hell- It's, like, 2:00 in the morning. _I stand up and walk over to my door, but never open it because I realize that the knocking is coming from my balcony. I groan tiredly and make my way over to the balcony, throwing open the doors that lead outside when I finally get there.

Clary stands there with her lip drawn between her teeth and her comforter wrapped around her shoulders. I smile slightly at the sight and open the doors wider so that she can come inside and out of the cold. She silently walks over to my bed and plops herself down, while I retake my seat at my desk. The small lamp that sits on my desk illuminates my room in a dull yellow light. I slouch back in my comfy desk-chair and look expectantly to Clary, who is pulling her comforter closer around her small body. _She's so cute… Shut up! You're just tired, _I tell myself angrily.

"Were you sleeping?" Clary asks quietly, bringing my out of my internal reprimanding. I shake my head and stifle a yawn into my hand.

"Nah, I was doing homework. I kind of forgot about it earlier when Max and I were having an epic battle-to-the-death." I mumble tiredly, leaning back in my chair even more. She nods slightly and rests her elbows on her knees with her chin on her hands.

"Who won?" she asks curiously, peering up at me through her eyelashes. I swallow against the foreign feeling that settles in my gut and take a deep breath before speaking.

"Max. Do you really even have to ask anymore?" I say rhetorically, smiling at her teasingly. She pokes her tongue out at me and rolls her eyes.

"No. we all know that you suck ass at COD. I guess that I was just hopeful that you learned a few techniques from your last detonation. Max really knows how to put your ego back in its place, let me tell you." she states casually, frowning in mock-disappointment to herself. I chuckle and stand up from my desk chair, before walking over to the vacant side of my bed and flopping down onto it. I bury my head into one of my pillows and sigh tiredly.

"Funny." I comment sarcastically, before turning my head to the side in order to face Clary and quirking an eyebrow up at her. "So, why are you here again?" I ask curiously, exhaustion seeping into my voice. She lies down beside me and turns her head towards me, watching my face intently before speaking.

"I booked you guys another gig and I felt like telling you." She states, yawning half way through. I nod and flip over, so that I am lying on my side with my head rested on my palm.

"Okay, so when and where is it?" I inquire; a little more awake at the mention of a gig. She smiles sleepily at me and grabs my hand in hers.

"In two days." She states plainly, idly playing with my fingers in the most distracting way possible. _Think good thoughts, Jace. Don't think about how much you enjoy her hands playing with yours. Don't think about how adorable she is… But she is really cute… I said 'don't' for a reason, dammit!_ Noticing my incredulous expression, she continues. "I know that it's really last-moment, but Luke literally _just_ called me tonight. He said that some pretty high-up music-scouts are going to be at the gig and that he thinks that you guys have a really good chance of catching one of their eyes. Apparently the band that was scheduled to play cancelled, so he said that you guys were his 'next-best-option'." She explains, smiling up at me apologetically. I nod again, _I've been doing that a lot lately, _before settling down into my pillows and trying to focus on anything else besides her fingers playing with mine.

"That's cool. I'm tired…" I trail off drowsily, my eyes fluttering closed against my will. I feel the bed shift, and then I feel soft lips press against my forehead. I reluctantly open one eye, to see Clary burrowing down into her comforter and moving away from me. She smiles tiredly at me and wraps her comforter tighter around her.

"Then go to sleep, stupid. I'm tired too." She tells me, scooting closer to me and resting her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her tighter to me, before kissing her head and getting underneath of my on covers.

"You can stay here tonight. It's late and cold and I don't want you to accidentally slip and die on your way over the railings." I mumble quietly, my body screaming at me to go to sleep already. My eyes slip closed again, but I feel her nod against my T-shirt and snuggle deeper into my side. A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth and I press a kiss to the top of her head, before continuing to speak. "Besides, I kind of enjoy having my own Clary-pillow. It's very comfy and soft." I say teasingly, squeezing her tighter to my chest to make my point. She makes a murmur of protest, but relents to rest her head onto my chest.

"Shut up, Asswipe. I'm trying to sleep here." she whispers mockingly, causing me to peel my eyes open to look into hers one last time. Hers are tired and heavy-looking, but a playful glint still peeks out through her long lashes. She smiles slightly up at me from her position on my chest, before turning her head further into my body and closing her eyes. "Now hush, my child. Close your golden orbs and let the darkness take you to a land of fortune and fairies." She whispers sarcastically, though her voice is so soft that I can barely make it out. I chuckle quietly, before closing my eyes and doing exactly what she told me to do. _While I highly doubt that I'll be having dreams about fairies, I most definitely will be dreaming about fortune…_

* * *

The next day, I wake up to Clary running her nails up and down the bottom of my foot. Let me tell you, it's one of the most disturbing feelings out there. Sadly for me though, I have a best-friend who finds endless amusement in my discomfort and pain. She presses one of her nails deeper into the bottom of my foot, _my foot-palm, _causing me to cringe and try to pull my foot back towards my body. When I realize that she has a firm grip on my ankle though, and I seriously doubt that kicking her would turn out very well, I throw the covers off of my body and sit straight up in my bed. I swing my legs over the side of the bed quickly and stand, before moving towards her with my arms outstretched in order to catch her.

Her eyes go wide when she realizes that she is on the wrong side of the room, the door is on the opposite side, and that her only escape route is my bathroom. I see her swallow and smile up at me angelically, but her attempts to escape her fate are to no avail. When you have been around somebody almost every day, for the past six years, their charms don't have any effect on you anymore. I grin down at her devilishly and walk her back towards the wall, caging her in with my arms like an animal. I lean down so that my lips are almost touching the shell of her ear and chuckle darkly, my voice coming out slightly husky from just being woken up.

"Now, Clary. Was that really the smartest thing to do?" I inquire playfully, pressing my body closer to hers when I see her trying to move out of my grasp. She looks up at me with wide eyes and a wavering smile, all hope leaving her expression and being replaced by well-placed fear. _Be afraid, be very afraid. _

"Y-yes." Clary squeaks out, placing her palms flat against my chest and pushing at my solid form pathetically. _Honey, I don't work-out for an hour a day for nothing. _I roll my eyes at small figure, clicking my tongue down at her in mock-disappointment, before smiling down at her sadly.

"Wrong answer. I'm afraid that you'll have to be punished. That is, unless you would like to apologize and be on your way…" I trail off, nodding my head back towards my door on the other side of the room. I see her eyes flicker between mine and the door several times, before a stubborn spark flickers in the depths of her eyes. I smirk down at her with false malice when she shakes her head and sets her jaw, most likely resembling The Joker when he finally caught Batman. _Of course, he got killed anyway, but…_

"Why would I apologize for something, when I wasn't the one who was at fault? I think that you should have to apologize to me. I'm the one who had to touch your feet; I may even have to pour salicylic acid on my hands just to continue on with my day." She states, looking me in the eyes with a stubbornness only known to one family in existence; the Morgensterns. I just chuckle, before reaching one of my hands down to her side and poking her in warning for what is about to come.

"Are you positive? You can still change you answer, y'know." I say teasingly, poking her again. She flinches away from my touch and glances down at my hand in minor panic. I watch as her determination fades slightly from her eyes and temptation replaces it, causing me to grin to myself in satisfaction. _Gotcha! _

"I-I," she pauses to collect herself, before continuing. "Never!" she cries, not sounding as confident as her words were meant to portray her as. My grin turns into a smile, before both of my hands go down to attack her sides.

She slides down the wall, making me kneel down along with her in order to keep up my hand's assault, and tries to curl in on herself. I just dig my fingers harder into her sides and laugh heartily when she starts screaming for me to stop. Her face is contorted with laughter and her eyes are pleading with me to halt my torture. With one final chuckle, I do.

I stand up and move over to my bed to sit down, while watching Clary recover on the floor. She is gasping for air and glaring at me with her eyes. I laugh when her entire body collapses tiredly and look around my room.

The curtains are still closed so I can't tell what time it is by the light outside, my comforter and Clary's are both tangled into a pile on the floor, my pillows have been thrown across the room, and the lamp on my desk is still on from last night. I yawn and stretch my hand above my head, pulling my shirt up slightly to reveal my abdomen, before standing and walking over to my balcony. I vaguely hear Clary get up from the floor as I fling open the curtains, but don't even spare her a glance as I open the door and walk outside into the metal platform that is attached to my room.

The sky is still mostly dark, except for the slightest bit of sunshine that is starting to peak through the tall building in the distance. I sigh in contentment, before going back into my room. Clary is sitting on my bed, having gathered up her comforter from the floor and wrapped it around herself, so I make my way over to the empty side of the bed and flop myself down haphazardly. Her entire body jolts with the bed when I do, but she only sighs and lies down next to me. I glance over at her after a moment of silence with a questioning look.

"Why did you wake me up? Aren't you supposed to be the one in this relationship that sleeps in really late?" I ask, the last part in a teasing tone. She groans and drags her hands down her face, rubbing at her eyes along the way.

"We need to text the guys before school and tell them about an emergency-band-practice. You guys need to be ready for the gig in two days. Who knows, maybe there'll really _be_ a music-scout there. You guys could get famous." She explains, grabbing my phone off of the bedside table and handing it to me. I unlock it and start texting the guys quickly, suddenly becoming excited about the gig.

"On it." I state, mock-saluting her distractedly while typing into my phone. She snuggles down into her comforter, before closing her eyes and sighing quietly.

"I think that I'm going to go back to sleep. I only got, like, three hours of sleep." And with that, she relaxes and leaves me to finish sending out the texts.

After I'm done texting the guys, I look at the time on my phone. 5:30am. _No wonder she's acting like a zombie,_ I think as I pull my own comforter up onto my body from the floor and settle down into my bed again. _Her nocturnal-vampire-clock is completely messed up._

* * *

The next time that I wake up, it's because of my phone buzzing right next to my ear. _Damn phone…_ I groan and groggily reach a hand up to stop its constant buzzing, but find that, in my sleep disoriented mind, I can't actually get ahold of the small device with my eyes closed. I peel open one of my eyes and turn my head slightly in order to find my phone, before turning the alarm off and sitting up. The time reads 7:15am, so Clary and I need to wake up and get dressed in order to be on time to school. _Well, if we want to catch a ride to school in Alec's car and not have to walk. That too._

I rub my eyes and yawn, before looking down at my bed to see if Clary is awake yet. She is cuddled up into her comforter, sleeping like a rock. I smile softly down at her and reach a hand out to brush over her curls. Her regular braid has come slightly undone and is lying wildly over her shoulder. I allow my hand to run down to her cheek, after smoothing down her hair, and let my thumb brush idly over her cheek bone. She sighs softly and leans into my hand, causing me to bite my lip at the foreign feeling that settles in my gut. _What the fuck? This is clary, Dipshit!_

I am brought out of my internal scolding, by Clary's eyes fluttering open. I retract my hand, although reluctantly, and smile down at her as she blinks sleepily up at me. Her forehead crinkles adorably- _I mean, normally-_ as she yawns and sits up slowly, stretching her arms above her head as she goes. I avert my eyes when her T-shirt rides up slightly and stand up from the bed, trying desperately to get the abnormal thoughts out of my head. _Get you shit together, Man! These thoughts are really low, and that's saying something coming from you…_

I busy myself with gathering clothes to change into, while listening to Clary waking up in the background. I open one of my drawers on my dresser, grab a random shirt, and start shuffling through the rest of my drawers idly, as she finally gets off of my bed. I hear the floorboards creek under her weight as she crosses the room, causing me to look up from my clothes finally.

She stands at the balcony, holding her comforter and narrowing her eyes at the lone alarm-clock that sits upon the bedside table. Suddenly, like lightning just struck, her eyes become alert and she curses under her breath, before turning to me fully.

"I need to get dressed. Like, now." She states, smiling sheepishly at me. I nod and throw her a half-smile, gesturing to the now-open balcony doors.

"Sure thing. I'll meet you in the hallway, in ten?" I inquire, turning back to gathering my clothes and starting towards the bathroom. She grins at me, though her eyes still somewhat asleep, and bobs her head up and down.

"Absolutely. Later, _Jay_." She says, winking pointedly at me and exiting the room before I even have the chance to question the nickname. _Jay? That sounds like… Now way… She wouldn't use that against me… Would she?_

With a frustrated sigh, completely put off by my best-friend calling me a Cougar's nickname, I enter my bathroom and start the shower. As I'm leaning my head against the cool tiles though, all that I can think about is the hell that I'm going to be getting later. _Jay… Fuck my life…_

* * *

After I was dressed and had my bag, I ran out into the hallway to meet Clary. She wasn't there yet, so I quickly went back inside to grab some food for my stomach to eat. _Yes, I did just say that. _I picked up an apple and hurried back out into the hallway of our apartment building, only to find Clary already there. I blink in confusion at her and look around myself. _Is there a trap-door here or something, because I swear that she wasn't just here ten seconds ago…_

She grins up at me and fingers the strap of her bag in a shrugging motion. I shift my on bag up onto my shoulder and narrow my eyes at her playfully.

"Were you here the whole time?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to sound like a complete and total idiot. She just smiles at my innocently, immediately giving away her trade, and looks up at me through her eyelashes.

"I have _absolutely _no idea what you're talking about." She practically sings, skipping ahead of me and motioning for me to join her at the elevator. "Come on, _Jay._ We're going to be late for school, you silly-puss." And cue the evil grin. I groan loudly, but comply none the less. When we're in the elevator, I turn towards her with a dangerous scowl.

"Would you knock it off with the whole '_Jay'_ thing? It's bad enough to have an old Cougar already stalking me with it like I'm its prey, but to have my best-friend do it also? It's complete and utter torture." I practically whine, looking down at her with a pleading gaze. She winks at me and shakes her head almost imperceptibly, as if I should have known better than to ask that exact question.

"Jay, Jay, Jay." She clucks, biting back a grin while reprimanding me. "You're just getting what's coming to you. You know that, right?" she says rhetorically, now glancing down to her nails as if bored. I growl under my breath and tip my head u to the ceiling in a silent plead to god. _Whatever she has planned, smite her down. Do it now, god. While you still have the chance. _

"No. I don't know, Clare. Would you care to elaborate or…" I trail off, allowing some of my annoyance and frustration seep into my voice. She just smirks to herself enigmatically and sighs, sounding completely content with my answer.

"Nope. This is just payback for earlier." She states, before waltzing out of the elevator when it dings. I stare at her back for a moment, groan again, and finally settle on following her. _Damn, why did I have to tickle Satan's incarnate? Why am I such an idiot? Although a very attractive idiot, but an idiot none the less… _

* * *

_**Well, that's all folks.**_

**So… let's just start off with a huge I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING AN ASSHOLE! Okay, now that we have that out of our system…**

**There's the next chapter. I know that it was probably really boring, but I needed to put it in there in order to develop some information for later on in the story. I'm sure that you guy have heard all of this before, so moving on.**

**MY COMPUTER STILL SUCKS ASS… just not in the good way… the damned thing completely shut down for, like, four days. Least to say, I was absolutely pissed. I thought that all of my data had been wiped clean, but being the smart person that I am, I had it all saved onto an external drive, so… yeah…**

**Okay, I'll stop bitching now. Bye. :]**

**Explanations for this chapter:**

**Cougar: **_**basically an old lady whom tries to pull young, unsuspecting men into their traps… like my Aunt Cathy… **_

**In case some of you forgot, **_**'Jay'**_** is the nickname that Seb's aunt, Elodie, gave him earlier on in the story. She is what I would to refer to as, a Cougar.**

**Thanks to all of you who reviewed and told me your thoughts. Do it again right now. :D**

**Review&amp; Follow**


	8. Chapter 8

_Clary POV_

My fork clatters onto my plate with a hollow '_thunk_', as the buzzer rings frantically. I furrow my brows and stand up quickly, beating Jon and Dad to answer the door to our apartment.

* * *

My mother isn't here right now, because she apparently had an '_important painting due that could very well lay out her career for her'_. So, basically she forgot about a client's painting, and instead worked on some random one. She has a bad habit of neglecting the necessities, such as her job. My mother really _is_ a fantastic artist, obviously said so by her over-the-top paying job, she just tends to paint things that come to her; not the requests that she actually gets paid to do. She works at a relatively large art gallery, called _Monet Okay, _which is located right smack-dab in the middle of the city.

The only problem with her working where she does though, is that she is almost _never_ home to eat with the rest of us during the week. She's usually at work until about 8:00pm, and by then Jon and I are already in our rooms being teenagers. _Translation: We're too lazy to come out of our rooms and have 'family time'. Hell no, I don't do that. They're lucky that I even talk to them daily. If it were up to me, I would be a complete and total recluse and stay in my room all day; only coming out for food every three-four hours._

My father works at a large music store called _M-n-W's._ That stands for Morgenstern and Wayland, or my father, Valentine Morgenstern, and one of his best friend's, Michael Wayland. They go way back, apparently until before high-school. Michael, or as Jon and I call him 'Mike', is really well _connected._ When I say that, I mean that he has a lot of important people on speed-dial.

Their store is very modern, like _very _modern. It is located in two-story apartment building downtown, taking up the entire bottom-floor. The second-floor is currently being inhabited by extra merchandise that didn't fit into the main portion of the store, and where my father an Mike hide out when they have a 'guy's night'. Old-fashioned records line the walls, the floor is completely black tile, the walls and ceiling are painted metallic-black, rows upon rows of classic records and the latest CDs, and the back of the main-store holds my favorite part of the entire store.

Guitars.

They line the walls of the remotely-large room that is located behind the counter/register. My father invested into building an extra room in the back when he and Mike first purchased the building, and he just recently turned it into a guitar room. Everything from electrics, to acoustics, to basses are stocked up and sitting on stands in the climate-controlled room. My father installed a humidifier when he decided to add the guitar room in the back; basically to keep the instruments in ship-shape condition in the frigid New York weather. Even though they're inside of a heated building, my father still insisted on investing in the stupid humidifier; so now he has his own personal sauna in the back of his music store. _Wonderful._

My father is very interesting when it comes to his job. Like, he wears a fancy suit and a tie to work, but he works at a _music store._ Or, he carries around a briefcase with him, but it doesn't have anything important in it; jut his lunch. In simpler words, he's awesome. _Yeah, I love my father._

* * *

I walk over to the door and pull it open quickly; slightly alarmed at the aggressive pace someone is ringing our buzzer at. Simon stands on the other side of the door, hair disheveled and panting in all his geeky glory. I open my mouth to question him why he's here, but never get the chance to before he is grabbing ahold of my wrist ad dragging me out of my apartment. I stumble at first from surprise, but obediently follow after him. When it appears clear to me exactly where we are headed, I dig my heels into the carpet. He stops and turns toward me with an exasperated expression, if not slightly frustrated.

"Why'd you stop? Let's go!" he demands, pulling me towards the Lightwood's apartment door harder. I rip my wrist out of his grasp and raise an eyebrow up at him, pointing back towards my still-open apartment door.

"Why are we here? I was kind of busy." I inquire exasperatedly, my temper slightly slipping into my tone. Simon groans in pure frustration and points at the Lightwood's door again.

"We have a major situation with the state of our friendship, Clarissa. Your sketchbook can wait." He grinds out stubbornly, before taking ahold of my wrist again and leading me into the Lightwood's apartment. I stumble through the small entryway, coming into the kitchen, and turn to scowl at Simon.

"What the hell do you want? What could _possibly_ be more important than me eating dinner?" I practically growl, glaring up at him fiercely. He bites down on his bottom lip harshly, but stays silent as he passes by me and disappears down the hallway that leads to everyone's bedrooms. I just stare dumbly after him, until a familiar voice breaks me out of my trance.

"What are we looking at that is so interesting? Hmm? I know _for a fact_, that the hallway cannot _possibly_ be more interesting than yours truly." The voice whispers hotly into my ear, causing my to shiver at the odd, but somehow pleasing, feeling.

I spin around sharply, only to crash face-first into a solid chest. Said chest vibrates with laughter, and then I am being pulled back by familiar and lean hands. Jace smiles down at me, amusement shining in the depths his eyes, and holds me at arm's length away from his body. _Where you secretly long to be,_ whispers the evil voice in the back of my mind. _Shut up, dammit! He's right there!_ I roll my eyes up at him and shake my head, before stepping out of his grasp and nodding my head towards the hallway in question.

"Why have I just been kidnapped from my nourishment? We were having lasagna, too." I grumble the last part under my breath, but otherwise look at his face curiously. He shakes his head slightly and blows out a long sigh.

"Nourishment is good." He states, before continuing. "No idea. Rat-boy and Izzy have been yelling at each other for about an hour though. It's starting to make me want to shove them both out of an eighth-story balcony." He almost growls, gritting his teeth when loud voices erupt from somewhere down the hallway. I lean towards the hallway slightly, trying to make out their conversation, but only manage to make out a few.

"Date… waited… Clary's here… ridiculous." Simon's voice fills my ears, and judging by the aggravation in his tone, when I go in there I won't be coming out for a while.

I bite my lip in thought, and then rush over to the front door of the apartment; swinging it open widely and dashing out the door within seconds. I vaguely hear Jace chuckle, but I'm already at my apartment's still-open door. I quickly make my way into the part of the kitchen that has the dining-table in it and walk over to where my plate of lasagna sits, starting to get cold.

My father looks at me with his eyebrows pulled to the center of his forehead in confusion, while Jon smirks at me in understanding amusement.

"Did Lewis finally figure out how to unhook a bra, or something?" he asks teasingly, most likely patting himself on the back for his 'intelligence'. I place my fork o my mostly-full plate in a way that it won't fall off while I'm walking, before rolling my eyes at him and speaking.

"No, Jon. Get your mind out of the gutter, please." I state tiredly, as if I'm bored of his immaturity, picking up my plate and starting to back out of the kitchen. "He and Izzy are fighting or something, so I'm going to go fix it." I say plainly. I try to make a break for the open apartment door, but my father's voice stops me dead in my tracks.

"And why, do pray-tell, does this activity require your dinner?" he inquires, sounding confused and a little lost. I see Jon snicker into his water-glass and mentally picture him choking on the simple substance. _Yeah, you go ahead and choke, Jonnie-Boy, and then we'll see who's laughing. Mother-fucking dipshit. _

"I'm hungry and I have a feeling that this'll take a while." And with that, I run out of the apartment; leaving a very confused father and hysterical brother in my wake.

When I reenter the Lightwood's apartment, Jace is sprawled out over the couch in the living-room. A bag of BLT flavored chips lays open on his stomach and the TV is turned on to _Supernatural._ In a momentary relapse of memory, I wander over to the empty loveseat and plop myself down onto the fancy leather cushions.

The Lightwoods are very well-off money wise, kind of like my family, but they, again like us, continue to live at The Institute. For some reason, my parents have never considered moving into an actual house. We've lived at The Institute for as long as I remember, and I'm fine with that. I love The Institute, plain and simple. Of course, it isn't like any ordinary apartment building. Each apartment has at least two bedrooms, or four like mine, but they do go all the way up to six bedrooms, like the Lightwood's apartment. They have a guestroom in their apartment, whereas my mother has turned our guestroom into an art-room. The Institute is a really nice place to live in; you just have to know how to cooperate with Madame Dorthea's temper.

I set my plate of lasagna on my lap and tune into the show, biting back a dreamy sigh at the sight of Dean Winchester. _Perfection. _

"Did you just sigh like a fucking fan-girl?" Jace's incredulous voice breaks me out of my internal fantasies. _Apparently I suck at biting back dreamy sighs. Fuck me… literally. _I look over to where he has paused in his devour-everything-in-sight fest, setting down the bag of chips at his feet and sitting up like a normal person, and shrug halfheartedly.

"Maybe." And with that I pick up my fork and shovel a bite of lasagna into my mouth. _My god, my father is an amazing cook._ I see Jace eye my plate in my peripheral and turn to him fully, swallowing before speaking. "What?" he just shrugs and nods towards my plate, eyeing it like a fat kid who was told to go on a diet.

"Where'd you get that?" he asks nonchalantly, but I see right through his bullshit. I roll my eyes and point towards the front-door with my fork.

"There's still half a pan left in the kitchen. Have at it." I tell him, knowing fully well that he's just itching for the chance to eat my food. He shakes his head and smiles politely at me. _Since when has Jace been polite?_

"Oh, I couldn't…" he starts, sounding like a kind old lady who's just been offered money for feeding her daughter's dog, only to quickly jump off of the couch and dash out the door before I can comment. _I knew he wasn't that polite. _I chuckle under my breath and shake my head at the door that he left ajar on his way out.

"Did you even have dinner yet?" I call after him, knowing that he can still hear me.

"Yes, but I'm still starving!" he yells back, his voice slightly muffled by the distance. I sigh and sink back into the loveseat, preparing to get comfy and watch sexy demon hunters, when a loud thud sounds from down the hallway where the bedrooms are. _Shit! I forgot about Simon!_

I stand up and balance my plate in my hands again, before starting down the hallway. I briskly walk pass Alec, Max, and Jace's rooms, until I reach Izzy's. Hers has a glittery sign that reads '_Izzy'._ I move my plate onto one of my hands and knock on the door, quite loudly so that they can hear me over their yelling.

The door opens and Simon grabs my arm, thankfully not the one that has my food in it, swiftly pulling me inside of Izzy's room and closing the door. He turns to me and sighs, as if in relief, before waving a hand out at Izzy's fuming form on her bright-pink bed.

"She needs to get her priorities straight! I tried to do what she wanted, but she keeps changing her mind!" he states, rather loudly might I add. Izzy rolls her eyes with attitude, and then launches into a rather loud lecture. Simon starts talking along with her as she tries to win me onto her side, but all that I do is walk over to her desk-chair and sit down. I watch with mild interest as they continue to talk over the other, taking bites of my lasagna as they rant at each other.

By the time they're done yelling over each other, I have finished my food and am looking desperately at the door; wanting to leave and go watch sexy demon hunters with Jace. _That way I'd be surrounded by hot guys. Sign me up!_ Finally, I get aggravated at the pair in front of me and snap.

"Shut up! Both of you!" They immediately quiet down, looking to the floor like the reprimanded children they are. I stand up from my seat at Izzy's desk and walk over to the door, my empty food-plate in hand. "Now, what's the problem." I ask, staring both of them down like a cruel teacher. Izzy bites her lip and shrugs slightly, appearing to be embarrassed.

"We were going to go on a date next week, but Simon has band practice every day and I have to go to the guys' practices." She states quietly, avoiding my eyes. Simon flushes slightly and drops himself onto the ground, covering his face with his palms.

"Yeah. That." He murmurs into his hands, sounding exhausted. I quickly glance at the clock set on Izzy's bedside-table and notice that it's almost 8:00pm. I sigh and shuffle the plate that's in my hands back and forth idly.

"Okay, when did you guys start dating?" I ask tiredly, suddenly not having energy for this drama. They both shrug and smile slightly up at me from their positions on lower objects than me, making me taller than them. _For once. _"Never mind that, for now. Why can't you guys just take a day off from the bands?" I inquire suggestively. Simon bites his lip in thought and shrugs again.

"I have Friday off, but Izzy has to be at _The Fallen's_ practice then." He states, spitting out 'The Fallen' like poison. I roll my eyes at his ability to overlook simple solutions and sigh, opening the door as I go.

"Just go on Friday. Izzy doesn't really _need_ to be at the guys' practice anyway. All she does is make fun of them anyway." And with that I exit the room, now completely done with teenage-drama for the next millennium. I faintly hear Izzy talking to Simon in an excited voice, but don't stay to find out what she's actually saying.

When I make it back to the living-room, Jace is laying on the couch again; this time with a blanket draped over his lower half. One of my family's plates sits on the table that sits in front of the couch and the bag of chips from earlier lays beside it, abandoned. I lazily walk over to the loveseat, set down my plate next to Jace's, and throw myself down; sighing deeply. Jace looks over at me and raises an eyebrow up at me in amusement.

"Have fun?" he inquires, propping his head up with one of his hands. I groan and rest my head again the back of the loveseat.

"No. Those two are lethal when it comes to arguing, let me tell you." I mumble tiredly, closing my eyes briefly.

I hear Jace chuckle and his blanket rustle, and then I am being lifted into strong arms. I open my eyes and gasp in panic, before realizing that Jace is just moving me over to his couch. He gently places me down on the front part of the wide couch, and then climbs onto it behind me. His arms wrap around my waist and pull me to his chest, somehow pulling the blanket up over both of us in the process. I sigh in content and snuggle back into Jace's arms deeper, basking in the warmth of my best-friend. I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head and rest his chin on my shoulder directly after. My eyes catch sight of the empty plates on the short table and I can't help but look behind me slightly at Jace, who has his eyes trained intently on the TV.

"Did you ravage my fridge?" I ask curiously, also looking over at the TV. _Supernatural_ is still on, thankfully. I feel him nod against my shoulder.

"Yep. Your father just stared at me while I helped myself. He probably thinks that I secretly wait outside of you guys' door until there's food ready to be eaten." He chuckles out, his chest vibrating against my back. I giggle quietly and yawn.

"Most likely. Are you nervous for tomorrow?" I inquire distractedly, my eyes now trained on Dean Winchester's beautiful features. _Why does he have to be twice my age? Why?!_

Tomorrow is the gig that might have some music-scouts at. The guys practiced for three hours straight the past two days just to prepare for it, so they have a reason to be nervous. They, after all, only had two days to practice for this gig.

Jace sighs tiredly and buries his face into the crook of my neck.

"Kinda. Not really though. We practiced for, like, _four hours straight_ on the _one song_ that we're playing, so I think that we'll do great." He states quietly, yawning halfway through his sentence. I nod slightly, my eyes starting to grow heavy, and yawn again. _Yawning's contagious, y'know…_

"I'm tired. Maybe I should go home before I fall asleep here." I mumble, already half asleep. Jace tightens his hold on my when I start to move off of the couch and pulls me back against him more firmly, making me feel completely safe and content.

"No, don't leave. Stay." He murmurs softly into my ear, tugging the blanket up over us more until it covers both of our shoulders. I sigh and nod, allowing my eyes to slip closed.

"M'kay…" I trail off, exhaustion finally getting to me. _And it's not even 9:00pm yet._ The last thing that my mind registers before giving into sleep's warm embrace, is Jace pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

"Night, Clare." His smooth voice floats through my ears, soothing me into the welcoming abyss that is unconsciousness.

* * *

**So, there you go. Enjoy! It's currently like 4:00am, so I'm going to go to sleep now.**

**Thanks to all of you for reviewing and telling me your thoughts. **

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for the plot and my ideas. :D**

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	9. Chapter 9

_Jace POV_

The glass feels cold against my forehead as Alec drives the group to Pandemonium for the gig. I close my eyes and try to let my mind relax slightly before we have to go on the stage for a sound-check when we arrive at the large club. No matter what I may have said to Clary yesterday, I am still kind of nervous for the gig tonight. Well, not tonight anymore really. More like an hour.

I am pulled out of my thoughts by the large SUV shrieking to a halt, and my head ramming against the window harshly. _Ow…_ I open my eyes and look up at Alec through the mirror at the front of the car sharply, glaring at him and rubbing my head at the same time. I hear quiet grumbles come from the rest of the group that is in the car, which includes everyone but Jordan, Maia, and Rat-boy who are all coming in their own vehicles, and I unbuckle my seatbelt before scooting to the edge of my seat and leaning over the middle-counsel of the car in order to get closer to Alec.

"What the hell, dude? My face hurts now…" I mumble, still rubbing my forehead and wincing over-exaggeratedly. He swivels around in his sat to face me and grins a very un-Alec-like grin. _So he's basically wearing my grin… douche-canoe. _

"You needed to wake up from your nap, Princess. I was only doing you a favor and alerting you that we have arrived to the castle." He states boldly, his face completely serious aside from the slightest twitch upwards in his lip. I furrow my brow in mock-concern and reach over the counsel to place the back of my hand to his forehead. I sigh and shake my head, before turning to the seat behind me, the third row of seats in the SUV, and facing Clary.

"He has a high fever. Maybe we should feed him Izzy's cooking to make him well." I say, watching with mild amusement as she struggles to unbuckle her seatbelt. After she finally gets it unbuckled, with Izzy's help of course, she smirks and looks to her left where Izzy sits.

"I don't know, that would probably make him go into shock; not make him feel better." She says wearily, eyeing Izzy unsurely and scooting over towards the window that is on her right. Izzy growls dangerously at the both of us, before slapping Jon, who is sat in the seat in front of her, upside the head and pointing towards the still-closed door.

"Can you move your fat ass so that I can get out? The car has stopped, if you haven't noticed, Jackass." She demands, slapping him again to gain his attention back to her when his eyes flutter down to his phone. He makes a noise that sounds like a whine mixed with a groan, before flinging the door open and hopping out of the car. Izzy quickly climbs through the gap between me and Jon's seats in the middle of the vehicle and exits said vehicle, being sure to elbow me in the face as she went. I groan and massage my face again, glaring at her through the now-open car door. Clary laughs quietly from her seat and gently brushes her fingers over my 'wound'.

"Aw, you poor baby. Did the mean old lady give you a boo-boo?" she asks teasingly, talking in a soft tone like one would to a small infant. I sniff and nod, giving her doe-eyes and sticking my bottom lip out for good measure.

"Uh-huh." I mumble, looking up into her beautiful emerald- I mean, green eyes. _Yeah, no you didn't, Bro… Shut up._ She pats my head playfully, _like I'm a fucking dog_, before moving to exit the car.

"I'm not old, Bitch!" Izzy's voice floats into my ears, causing both Clary and I to grin evilly at each other.

"Whatever lets you sleep at night, Iz." Clary calls back, smirking to herself and stepping down from the tall vehicle. I get out of the car from the door on my side and round the black SUV to join the rest of the group.

We are parked around the back of the club in the employee's parking-lot, because that's where Luke told Clary we were supposed to park. Apparently, this gig is a lot bigger than we all originally thought; like a lot bigger. The parking-lot, according to Luke's earlier information, will be packed by the time that the bands start performing, explaining the reason that all of the bands and staff have to park around back.

"Come get your stuff, guys." Alec calls from the back of the SUV. Jon and Jordan both run to the back to gather their guitars, while the rest of us stay at the front of the car. Seb and I don't really have instruments that we can carry with us, with Seb's only portable parts being his drumsticks and mine being a microphone that I didn't care to bring tonight, so we just stay with Izzy and Clary.

The group starts towards the doors that lead into the club after Alec locks up the car, horsing around like the idiots that we are, and I follow their lead. I look around at the back of the large building that looms up in front of me and bite my lip in thought.

The back of the building isn't as appealing in the back as it is in front, with its neon-signs and large windows overlooking the roads in front of it. The doors in the back are rusted and dirty-looking, the brick of the building is covered with mazes of graffiti, and the large alleyway where we have parked the car is littered with metal trashcans and lone garbage-bags that have been set outside of the rusted doors.

I feel a presence side up with me and look to my left in mild curiosity. Clary grins up at me and bumps me with her shoulder, only hitting me in my ribcage with her short stature. _She might hate it, but I love that she makes me feel like a giant. –Enter smug smirk here-_

"So, what are you thinking about?" she inquires, idly looking around the alley as we walk. I shrug slightly and nudge her with my elbow.

"Nothing important. Are you excited to be amazed by my heavenly vocals?" I ask cockily, even going as far as shooting her a wink to back-up my statement. She rolls her eyes playfully and laces her arm through mine, hanging off of me like a sloth.

"I think that, by the end of the night, you guys are going to have enough fan-girls, so you won't even need my input to boost your egos. I'll pass on inflating your already-overly-large heads, and instead raid the snack-bar that Luke promised would be backstage." She states, smiling up at me with a child-like excitement shining in her eyes. I shake my head down at her in disbelief and choke out an incredulous chuckle.

"You would rather be at the snack-bar, than compliment me on my God-given talents?! Is that what just came out of your mouth, Clare?!" I gasp dramatically, glaring down at her in betrayal. She grins and walks through the doorway into the club, which I hadn't even noticed that we had reached. Alec is holding the door open for everyone, ever the gentleman, and rolls his eyes at my expression. I stomp through the doorway mockingly and up to Clary, who has stopped about ten feet from the door and is staring around herself in amazement.

"Yes." She says plainly when I stop at her side, her voice slightly breathless and her eyes glued to something across the relatively-large room. I take on an air of mock-hurt and stumble back away from her, holding one of my hands to my chest.

"That wounds me! Right in my angelic heart, Clare!" I wipe a 'tear' from my eye and turn away from her, hearing her musical laughter in the background as I meander away from her to explore the backstage of the club.

The backstage-room-thing is what the doors from the alley led to, so here we are. No decorations have been put up, so I am confused as to why Clary was so amazed when we entered, but I understand after taking in the entire room. The snack-bar is huge and is also set up on the other side of the large room, exactly where my short friend was staring at so intently. I roll my eyes at her 'relationship' with all things unhealthy and start towards the other guys, who are standing in a small semi-circle by the guy who controls the sound-system and lights on the side of the stage.

They all look up from whatever they were doing when I near them and the sound-guy sighs, as if relieved by my presence. _Can't blame him for being relieved; I would be too. _He has brown hair, brown eyes, and towers over me at, like, 6'6. Jordan, Jon, and Alec all have their instruments slung over their backs and out of their cases, so I know that the sound-check is going to be starting momentarily.

"There you are! Luke told me that you guys would be filling in for one of the other bands, so I have a feeling that this is your first big gig." He states, though it comes out sounding like a question. I nod along with the rest of the guys and look expectantly up at the man; simply because he is really tall, like a full head above me, compared to my 5'11 frame. He looks down at a monitor briefly, before leading us onto the stage.

"You guys don't really have to do anything for the sound-check, except for whoever is singing or doing back-up vocals. Luke said that two of you did vocals at your last gig, so…" he trails off and glances back at us questioningly, as he leads us over to where the mics are set up. Jordan and I exchange a glance and I nod slightly, before turning to the sound-guy.

"Yeah, both of us are doing that…" I trail off, sounding extremely unprofessional. The guy chuckles amusedly and motions towards the mics.

"Alright, just sing at the volume that you normally would so that I can adjust the settings, and then you can go backstage again." He tells us, before nodding at the mics and disappearing off of the stage. "Okay, you can sing now!" he calls loudly from backstage. I look at Jordan and shrug, before picking up a mic and bringing it to my lips.

I look out at the club, taking note of the clusters of people spread out over the entire club. Some of them have guitars and basses slung over their backs, so I'm guessing that they're the other performers. By the number of people gathered into small groups throughout the club, this gig is going to be really long. Like, a few hours long_. At least._

The club itself has been decorated with posters on the walls and tables set up neatly in the back toward the bar. Instead of the neon strobe-lights that were blaring from the ceiling at our last gig, white lights flash slowly from random points in the club and stage-lights illuminate the most part of the vast building. The shadowed booths in the back that line the walls have been decorated with strings of Christmas-lights and have menus for the bar laid out neatly on the surface of the tables.

I take in a deep breath, before starting to sing at the volume that I would if we were practicing in Seb's garage-music-room-thing. A few heads of the people on the ground-floor look up at me when I start, but I just smirk down at them and keep singing the very sophisticated song that I chose. _Yes. I did choose 'The Ants Go Marching One-by-One'. I'm a mature mother-fucker!_

I hear Jordan snicker to himself and send him a wink, while I finish the last line of the song. The rest of the guys that weren't needed on the stage had left while I was singing, but I hear their laughter from the side of the stage. I glance over and grin, satisfied that I managed to amuse my idiotic friends. Jordan shakes his head at me and smiles, before looking down at his shoes distractedly.

"You're really immature." He states factually, but when he risks glancing up at me, a wicked glint hints in his eyes. I grin at him and nod, before walking over to the side of the stage where the sound-guy and the rest of the guys are at.

"Was that good?" I ask the sound-guy when I reach where he is. He smiles at me and nods.

"Yep. You can come off-stage for now if you want." He tells me, before yelling to Jordan that he can start singing now. Jon claps me on the shoulder with a fatherly grin plastered onto his face, before turning back to the stage to watch Jordan.

Jon and I have never been that close, with me being best-friends with his sister and the whole age difference thing, but we do get along surprisingly well. And usually end up acting like five-year-olds whenever we're together. That would be the reason why Clary refuses to hang-out with us when we go out in public; when it's just me and Jon, I mean.

I am brought out of my thoughts, by Jordan's voice blasting through the speakers. His song choice literally leaves me speechless… for a moment… and then I burst out laughing.

"_It's okay, when it's in a 3-way. It's not gay, when it's in a 3-way. Put some honey in the middle, gain some leeway. The area's gray, in a 1-2-3-way."_ He sings, laughter erupting from throughout the entire club. The guys and I are all doubled over and roaring with laughter, Seb even looks like he's about to start crying.

When Jordan finally halts his singing, he chuckles and runs off of the stage after placing the mic back onto its stand. His cheeks are flushed and he looks mildly embarrassed at his little display. The guys and I all laugh harder and the sound-guy shakes his head whilst chuckling at him.

"You guys are something else, let me tell you." He mumbles under his breath as he does something with one of the many monitors on his little cart-thing. Jordan ducks his head down and bites his lip, looking extremely embarrassed now. I just laugh and nudge him with my shoulder, before looking over to Jon when he starts talking.

"Hey, we never got you name…" he trails off expectantly, causing the guy to glance up at me and smile.

"Bat. Name's Bat." He explains, nodding his head at all of us. We all nod, and then head off to fins where our 'manager' is at. _Most likely the snack-bar…_

* * *

Truth be told, Clary was not only at the snack-bar when we found her, but she had also scared off the poor dude who was supposed to be running it. Apparently he was supposed to supervise the bands and whatnot while watching the snack-bar, but I think that he's going to get fired because of slacking off. _Not that it's his fault though; Clary can be scary when it comes down to food. And her coffee. I mess up and forget to put sugar in her cup one time..._

When we had to drag her away from her new-found 'love', she growled at us. Actually growled, but eventually followed us to our little bench that we got to keep our stuff on for the night. Of course, with her being Clary and all, she stuffed about three of the mini-pizzas in her mouth before she went with us. It was very entertaining to watch.

Right now, we are waiting for our turn on the stage. About five other bands have performed before us, so the crowd is all riled up and ready to go. Bat is sitting at his little station on the side of the stage, Luke is standing readily in front of Bat's cart-thing, and the current band is finishing up their song; a bad version of _Here Without You by 3 Doors Down._

All of our parents showed up when the club's owners first opened the doors at 8:00pm, so somewhere in the massive crowd we have at least ten fans; not counting Maia, Izzy, and Clary. _Well, I hope that they're our fans…_

Around five minutes before the 'concert', or gig, started, I got a text from my poor excuse of a girlfriend. Kaelie texted me, _texted me_, to say that she couldn't make it and that she'd see me whenever. _It's like she's asking to be dumped. _I had just sighed tiredly and turned my phone off, before rejoining the group's conversation once more. Clary had given me a sympathetic look and smiled at me with anger shining in her eyes. She's made it pretty apparent that she hates Kaelie and I can't really blame her; I'm just about done with her on-n-off shit myself.

The current band finally finishes destroying the once-good song and Luke jumps at the chance to usher them off of the stage. Clapping sounds from the crowd out in the club and I can tell that it is more out of curtesy than anything. _They kind of sucked ass… Not to be rude or anything…_

Luke announces that we're next and we all huddle into a little group quickly. Clary is standing by my side and grins up at us encouragingly, causing my heart to flutter unsteadily. _What the fuck-_

"You guys will be awesome. Just do exactly what you practiced the past two days, and you'll do great." She tells us brightly, cutting off my internal questioning. She places her hand in the middle of the huddle and looks up at all of us expectantly, at which we all lay our hands over hers. "Oh! And have fun." She adds, before counting down and doing the whole 'Go-Team' thing. We all chuckle at her excited energy and turn towards the stage just as Luke finishes announcing our arrival.

"Now, I present to you _The Fallen!"_ he yells into the mic enthusiastically, causing the crowd to roar loudly in my ears. The guys start walking onto the stage, but a hand stops me from going right away. Clary pulls me into a tight, but quick, hug and leans up to my ear.

"Good luck." She whispers, before kissing my cheek lightly and pushing me towards the stage. I wink and grin back at her, before walking fully onto the stage.

When I get to the mic that I'm supposed to use, I pick it up and quickly look out across the crowd.

Apparently, there are supposed to be several talent-scouts in the audience tonight. By the looks of things though, I couldn't even make out Maryse and Robert if I tried. The crowd is almost triple the size of the one at our first gig, so this must really be a big deal. I start to wonder if we're in over our heads, but snap myself out of it quickly. I bring the mic up to my lips and smile hugely down at the crowd, before starting talking.

"Hey, we're _The Fallen_ and this is our version of _Never Too Late by Three Days Grace._" I call into the mic, basically the same as last time, before counting down and the guys start to play. Jordan has switched out his electric-guitar for an electric-acoustic, so the song sounds really cool. I sneak a quick glance at Clary, who is standing at the side of the stage, before I start singing and wink at her. She flashes me a quick thumbs-up and nods at me, and then I am singing my heart out. _Let's do this…_

* * *

**Hi. Sorry for the slightly late update. I was reading… I know; bad excuse…**

**Anyway… Cassandra Clare owns all, except for my stuff. You know the usual routine. :D**

**Notes about chapter:**

_**3-Way- The Lonely Island (this song makes me laugh so hard)**_

_**Here Without You- 3 Doors Down**_

_**Never Too Late- Three Days Grace (love it!)**_

**I don't own any of the songs that I used…blah, blah, blah… okay. :D**

**Thanks for reviewing and telling me your thoughts. It means a lot to me. :D**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	10. Chapter 10

_Clary POV_

I bob my head up and down to the beat of the guys' music, smiling widely at Jace as he takes control of the crowd. The crowd is singing along to the song with him and the smile on his face shows his pleasure of that fact. I look around me, taking in Luke sitting on the edge of his seat while watching the guys perform and Bat turning various nobs on the little cart-thing that has the control-panels for the lights on it.

After a moment of debating whether or not it would be a good idea to sit down next to Luke, I give in and make my way over to one of the empty seats beside him. He looks over o me when I sit down and smiles, nodding towards the stage in the process.

"They've improved since the last time I heard them perform." He tells me, a proud look transforming his features. I nod and smile, looking back at the guys as they continue to play their hearts out.

"I know. They've worked really hard these past few weeks. It's really amazing what a little motivation can do." I say, nodding to myself slightly. "And ice-cream. They made me buy them ice-cream; like, after every practice." I add as an afterthought, causing Luke to chuckle heartily and his smile to widen.

"Well, they certainly deserved it. Your boys there, they just might win this little competition tonight." He states factually, an impressed look crossing his features as his eyes follow Jace's singing form on the stage. I furrow my brows in confusion and turn towards him fully.

"W-what," I pause to clear my throat, before continuing. "What competition?" I inquire, my tone slightly panicked. He stare at my face, his eyes incredulous.

"_This_ competition. I told you over the phone that a lot of bands would be here tonight to _compete._ That's the whole point of the talent-scouts being in the audience." He tells me, gesturing around him as if his statement should've been obvious. _Well, shit._ I swallow nervously and glance back towards the stage, where the guys are just starting to end _Never Too Late by Three Days Grace. _

"I just thought that this was like the last gig we went to; an open-mic-night kind of thing." I say, biting my lip in concern. The guys were going to kill me when they find out that I signed them up for a competition without their consent. Luke looks particularly concerned as his eyes flicker from the stage back to me several times, before he sighs and lays a reassuring hand on my arm and smiles kindly down at me.

"I guess that it really doesn't matter now. Your boys are doing great and they could win some big bucks if the judges like them as much as I do. They're my personal favorite." He tries to calm me down, but his statement just ends up raising my anxiety levels to the max.

"They could win money?! Wait, that doesn't matter right now. There are_ judges _here too?! Where?" I demand, looking behind me for the supposed 'judges'. He chuckles and turns me around so that I'm facing him again, before pointing to the stage and out towards the audience.

"They're sitting in one of the back booths that line the walls." He says, nodding at the roaring crowd from where he sits. I bite my lip and stare intently at the audience, trying to find the judges' table.

"So, what's the prize if they win?" I ask curiously, after finally having given up on finding the mysterious judges table in the packed in. Luke chuckles deeply and nods to himself, his eyes showing his amusement.

"Well, our sponsors, who are the judges by the way, donated several thousand dollars. Third place gets one-thousand, second place gets five-thousand, and first place, if I remember correctly, wins ten-thousand. Some big music store is also going to give gift-cards out to all of the participants after the show, too. Then, after we finish deciding and rewarding the performers, the talent-scouts are going to be let off of their imaginary 'leash'. The ones who were impressed by what they heard, will probably round up that particular b and try to strike some sort of deal. Whether or not they'll be handing out contracts and immediate fame, well, that's not within my knowledge. We'll just have to wait and see, I guess." He explains, smiling widely as Jon's guitar strums the last chords of the song. I nod to myself and stand up along with him when he does.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you, by the way; for helping the guys out so much. They wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." I tell him as I walk back over to my original place at the side of the stage. He nods in acknowledgement and waves his hand at me nonchalantly.

"Don't mention it, really. You just have to promise me that when those boys of yours become famous, and trust me that they will, you have to scream my name on the radio. At least once." He says playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles again. I giggle and nod my consent.

"Deal." And with that, the guys start piling off of the stage and Luke jogs out onto the now-empty stage with his mic in hand. I quickly sidestep the group of boys that are hurtling themselves at me and hastily make my way over to the bench where we are keeping our stuff for the night, glancing over my shoulder to make sure that none of them try to tackle me to the ground while I'm not looking.

When I am almost to the bench, someone picks me up and spins me around in a circle, gaining an outraged cry from my chest. I look down and see gold eyes staring up into mine with giddiness that is unpronounced, a wide grin proving my theory. Jace's hands are gently holding my waist as he lifts me up so that I'm a couple of inches taller than him and I have to place my own hands on his shoulders to keep myself balanced. His chuckle vibrates throughout my entire being, stirring something foreign inside of me.

"We were awesome, Clare! Did you see us?" he asks excitedly, gazing up at me in wonder. I giggle and nod up to him, my earlier anger at him for picking me up forgotten.

"Yeah, you guys did great out there!" I exclaim, squeezing his shoulders tighter when he starts walking towards the bench with me still in his arms. When I see the bench that has our stuff on it begin to appear over my shoulder, I start wiggling around in his arms and pushing at his shoulders. "Now, can you put me down, please? I have a feeling that we are about to be assaulted by several teenage boys as soon as they get finished with whatever they're doing." I tell him, still struggling to get out of his hold. He just tightens his grip on me and swings me up further into his arms, so that he is now cradling me to his chest. _And what a fine chest it is…_

"Nah, I don't think so. I've told you before and I'll tell you again; I like holding you. It's almost like having my _own personal dolly_." He says, the last part in a high-pitched voice that makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I just settle on laughing instead and decide that I might as well make myself comfortable. _If I know anything about Jace, and I know more than I should, it's that when he makes up his mind, being the stubborn little douche that he is naturally, he won't give up or do anything other than what he wants to do. Point and blank. _

"Whatever." I mumble grumpily, shifting slightly in his arms so that my head is resting against his collarbone as he lowers himself onto an empty portion of the bench. He just chuckled throatily, _or sexily; whichever you prefer, _and leans back against the wall that's behind the bench.

"You know that you love it, Clare. Just admit that you secretly like having your own personal carrier." He whispers hotly into my ear as he adjusts me slightly so that I'm now cuddled into his arms. I shrug and look up at him from where I am positioned on his lap, taking in the adoring look that has settled in the depths of his eyes. I swallow thickly at the feeling that settles in the pit of my stomach when I look into his eyes, but can't quite summon the strength to look away.

Do you know how when in books, the female love-interest looks into the male love-interest's eyes and seems to get lost; like all of her thoughts were stolen along with her breath and all of her common-sense? Well, that pretty much sums up my situation here. The only thing that's different is that I'm almost positive that Jace is feeling the same way that I do; simply because of the hazy glaze that has taken over his once-bright, golden orbs.

We must've just sat there, staring at each other, for longer than I thought, because the next thing that I know, four large forms are crashing into us and lifting us up off of the bench. I, somehow, end up in the middle of the group-hug, so I am being squeezed within an inch of my life from all directions with no way to escape.

"Luke said that we're his favorite. Bat did too! Man, we're awesome!" Jon declares after a moment of extreme hugging, his voice carrying throughout the back-stage area in an echo. The guys all add their agreements, but all that I do is push at the wall of testosterone to try to be free. _Be free, mother fucker! We've got to be free!_

"Would you guys _please_ move your fat asses out of my way?! I'm suffocating on douche-bag!" I cry, shoving at a random limb that comes in between me and my freedom. I can literally see the floor on the other side of the huddle, but somebody just had to ruin my life. _Damn it! And I was so close, too._

Finally, after continuing to struggle and throw several punches at random abdomens, one of the guys moves out of the huddle and allows me to escape. I practically sprint out of the cage and throw myself down onto the bench, dragging in deep breath of fresh air. _Is there a reason that all boys smell constantly like shit, or do they purposely roll around in it just to torment me? _

I glare up at the guys when the start laughing and flip them off, shuddering when the distinctive smell of boy lingers in the air as I gulp down another breath. I meet Jace's eye and immediately look away at the longing stare that he has already fixed me with. I try to focus on anything other than Jace's eyes. For example: _Why in the hell do the guys smell so bad today. They surely didn't smell like this earlier… maybe they just have always smelt like that._ _Well… that is, all except Jace. He always smells great, like, edible-great. Yep, it has been decided. If I ever get the chance to taste my best-friend, I'm not going to turn that offer down… Wow, I sound like a fucking psychotic carnivore._

"You assholes need to bathe in pure cologne, or something. You guys are really starting to live up to your nick-names." I state, scowling up at them as they start to put their instruments back into their designated cases. Seb plops himself down beside me and throws a grin my way, a curious yet amused look shining in his eyes.

"And, do pray-tell, what would be our nick-names be, Shorty?" he inquires, leaning back against his hands and eyeing me lazily. I growl at the unaffectionate name and kick him in the shin with my foot, before responding.

"First if all, I'm not short, Jackass. I'm fun-sized. I even have a T-shirt to prove it. Second of all, you guys' nick-names are all 'Asshole'. Therefore, you all smell like ass." I explain, nodding to myself in satisfaction as Seb takes on an air of being offended.

"Are you implying that we," he gestures dramatically to himself and the rest of the guys. "smell like _ass?_ How _dare_ you!" he exclaims, causing me to smother my giggle into my palm. I watch in pure, unadulterated amusement as he stands up from his seat and runs over to my brother, who is slinging his now-packed-away guitar-case over his shoulder. "Did you hear what she said about our hygiene, Jon?! She insulted all that is man!" Jon just chuckles and shakes his head slightly at his best-friend.

"Dude, you barely count as a man." And with that, we all burst out laughing; Seb pouting and fighting off a smirk unsuccessfully.

* * *

"Alright, everybody! How was the show, huh?" Luke roars into the mic, looking down expectantly to the crowd. Said crowd starts yelling and cheering out loudly, making Luke smile and nod his head in approval.

The guys are standing in a group on the stage, only a few feet away from the next band. Around ten bands are all lined up across the large stage, nervousness and excitement flowing from them like a river. Everybody has been on their toes for the past hour, waiting for the contest to finish up and for the judges to announce the winners.

When I had to break the news to the guys earlier, only about fifteen minutes after they had come off of the stage, they had all responded quite calmly. Well, at first. Jordan and Alec were pretty chill about the whole 'you-guys-are-competing-for-money-and-the-judges-attention' thing, while Jon and Seb just about made me want to go home. Seb had just stared at me for a while as my brother chewed me out about not knowing all the information before doing something, again. After Jon had gotten his rant out of his system, Seb looked as if he was about to start crying.

Jace was just happy that they could win money, so he ended up calming everybody down and saving my ass. Again.

Overall, everybody came to accept the fact that being naïve was the best way to go about this whole situation. Apparently, if I had known about the prize and the competition, the guys would've freaked out expertly and epically failed on the stage. At least they performed well.

That's all that I ask for.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Now, for the moment that you've all been waiting for, drumroll please." Luke pulls out a large, white piece of paper and pauses for a dramatic affect. "The third-place winner of tonight's competition and who are receiving one-thousand dollars is," he pauses again, making the audience lean forward in anticipation. "The Sledgehammer Saviors!" he bellows into his mic, causing the crowd to cheer loudly for the band that has just won. _The Sledgehammer Saviors… god, am I thankful that the guys have a semi-normal name. _

The band that Luke just announced is handed a smallish trophy, a piece of paper, and ushered to the middle of the stage, a small distance form where Luke himself stands. The bandmates look to be in their early twenties, _a lot older and more mature than the guys…_

"Coming in second-place and receiving five-thousand dollars is," Luke starts again, bringing my attention back to the stage. I take in a sharp breath, and hold it as he reads out the next band's name. "Walking on Gravestones!" The crowd's cheers seem to grow as the next band, also appearing to be in their twenties, walk over to where Luke stands and retrieve their trophy along with a piece of paper; most likely their money. _Their name… very morbid, but overall better than the sledgehammer guys over there…_

"And for the first-place winner and the receiver of the grand prize of ten-thousand dollars is," I bite my lip and allow my eyes to flicker to the guys' forms on the stage, taking in their slightly hopeful expressions. _It's all or nothing now, I guess,_ I think to myself as I hold my breath in a silent prayer. I see Luke's eyes flicker to mine briefly and try to decipher the look in his eyes. _Is that… excitement?_

"_The Fallen_!" he exclaims loudly, an overjoyed smile lighting up his face. The crowd roars and cheers, but all that I hear are those two words repeating on a loop. _The Fallen. The Fallen! They won. The guys won! Oh my fucking god, Clarissa! Your group of idiots won a damn contest!_

I lean towards the stage from my spot by the large, black curtain that I'm currently hiding behind and try to get a look at the guys. They're all just standing there, appearing to be completely dumbstruck. Jace is the only one who seems to still have a functioning mind, but he even looks as if he's in a daze. I watch as he leads the guys over to Luke, who hands Jace the _gigantic_ trophy that has been sitting loyally by his side all night along with a large piece of cardboard. I narrow my eyes slightly and look closer at the huge piece of cardboard that Jon I now holding to his chest like it's a small child.

_Ten-Thousand Dollars,_ is written on the line of the large check, which I just now notice that that is what the piece of cardboard is. My eyes widen into moons and I start laughing like a maniac, most likely scaring the poor people around me who are supporting the other bands.

Luke laughs good-naturedly and brings the mic up to his mouth again.

"Well, boys. Congrats! Would you like to say anything or…" he trails off uncertainly, watching the guys for a reaction. They all look at each other momentarily, before Jace nods and Luke hand the mic over to him.

"Can our favorite little red-head please come out here? I know you're there, Clary." He says, his question not sounding like a question at all but a demand. I swallow nervously and glance behind me at the door that leads to the alley where we parked our cars earlier. _Maybe I can make a run for it…_

"Clare, come on out. Please?" he asks angelically, and I just now notice that he has been staring directly at me this entire time. I sigh and hesitantly start walking onto the stage, ducking my head down to hide my blush when the crowd cheers for me. Jace grins at me wickedly and throws an arm around my shoulders when I reach him.

"See? Now that's better." He whispers into my ear, causing me to shiver and scoot closer to him, before turning back to the crowd. "I don't actually want to say anything. I just like embarrassing our dear Clary here." he states plainly, making the audience laugh loudly and me to turn my face into his chest. Jace hands the mic back to Luke, who chuckles into the mic when it reaches his lips.

"There you have it, folks. I hope that you enjoyed the show and, well, goodnight. Drive safely!" he calls out, finishing the competition.

The lights overhead in the vast club flicker on and Luke starts to usher all of the bands off of the stage. The crowd immediately dissolves into un-comprehendible chatter as we all walk towards our bench in silence.

I risk a glance up at the guys' faces from Jace's chest, because he has kept his arm around me as we made our way to the majority of our stuff. We placed the guys' instruments in Alec's car earlier so that they didn't have to worry about carrying it out later. They all just stare down at the floor for a moment, before all simultaneously lifting their heads and staring at me with dazed eyes.

"Did that really just happen?" Jon and Seb ask at the same time, both of their tones disbelieving. I nod and grin up at them. Silence greets our small group for a minute, before Jon pumps his fist up into the air and laughs heartily.

"Fuck yeah, Bitches!" and then they all start horsing around like the idiots that they are. Jace however, stays by my side with his arm thrown around my shoulders and just laughs as they goof around.

"Thanks, Clary. For everything." He whispers to me, before joining my brother in tackling Alec to the ground; leaving my completely confused and slightly disoriented. '_Thanks' for what? And god he smells amazing. Yup, I definitely would lick him if given the chance…_

* * *

After we finish gathering our stuff and saying goodbye to Luke, we all go out into the main part of the club to find our parents. They're all gathered into a group by the bar and are laughing at something an unfamiliar man said. Jace has rejoined his arm around my shoulders, so I am tucked into his side. _Not that I mind or anything…_

As we near the group, I start to analyze the unfamiliar man. He has really tan skin, dark-brown eyes, brown, almost black hair, and is smiling widely at my father. When we're close enough to hear their conversation, I take note that he has a slight Spanish accent. _Interesting…_

"Oh, guys this is Raphael Santiago. He's one of the talent-scouts that were here for the show tonight. He and I go way back, don't we, Raph?" my dad tells us, nudging 'Raph' in the shoulder with his in the process. 'Raph' nods and smiles at all of us kindly, chuckling to himself as he nudges my dad back.

"Yes, we do. I could tell you guys some very embarrassing stories about when your father was in high-school and he decided that it'd be a good idea to streak through the girls' gym class-" he starts, only to get cut off by my father clearing his throat and looking frantically from him to Mom and back. 'Raph' seems to get the point, because he just chuckles again and turns back to us. "Maybe another time, then. Anyways, I would like to congratulate you boys on your 'victory', if you will. You all are very talented." He compliments them, most likely expanding their already too-large heads even further. Jon speaks up for the rest of the group and nods his head to Raphael in acknowledgement.

"Thanks." He says, seeming slightly unsure of what to say. Raphael smiles at him warmly, before his dark eyes find me and seem to light up with recognition.

"Ah, and you must be Clary. Am I right?" he asks, his voice softer now than when he was talking to the guys. I nod and lean slightly into Jace, my shy side coming out on full blast. Raphael grins down at me and pulls a small card out of his pocket.

"I heard through the grapevine that you are these boys' manager of sorts. I have to give you kudos, teenage boys can be quite the headache, can't they." He states, handing me the card as he speaks. I nod again and smirk up at Jace's affronted expression.

"Yeah, they're really annoying sometimes, but I love 'em. Well, _most _of them." I say, looking pointedly at Jon for the last part. His indignant scoff is drowned out by Raphael's laugh and I smile up at him, my shyness starting to wear off slightly.

"I bet they do get annoying sometimes. Back to the point, you keep doing whatever it is that you're doing for these boys of yours and I'll contact some of my connections. You just call me when their next gig is, and I'll clear my schedule in order to be there. You have yourself a group of upcoming stars, you just wait and see." And with that, he winks at me and walks straight out of the front door. I stare after him for a moment, slightly confused as to what just happened, but Jon's voice brings me back to reality.

"You don't love me?!" he cries dramatically, wiping a 'tear' off of his cheek. I roll my eyes and look down at the card that's still in my hands.

_**Raphael Santiago**_

_**(123)-456-7890**_

I smile down at the card and tuck it into my pocket, before turning back to Jon and smiling innocently.

"Why would you say that?" and then I poke him in his stomach, slip out from under Jace's arm, and start towards the backstage door, wanting to get back to Alec's car and go home. I am vaguely aware of Jon grumbling in the background, but I just keep on walking. _My bed and I have a very intimate relationship; we sleep together every night. He needs to be slept with and I can't deny him of his needs…_

* * *

**I'm so sorry for the late update! Don't hate me, please. My computer was being a dick, again and I couldn't get it to turn on. I'm buying one on Black Friday, so I will be updating regularly from that point on. Again, sorry. **

**There's the next chapter; enjoy! **

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	11. Chapter 11

_Jace POV_

2,000 dollars.

That's how much each of us got from the prize money that we won on Friday night. We all opted for Clary to get a decent amount of the cash, but she just shook her head and left the room. I'm still going to figure out a way to give Clare some of my portion of the money though. Even if I have to stick small amounts in her wallet when she's not looking for the next couple of months, she will get paid.

Today is the glorious day of the Sat; or as normal people would say, Saturday. It has been a whole week since we won the competition at Pandemonium, _on accident but anyway_, and we are all sitting in Alec's car with envelopes in our laps. Our parents suggested that we put at least half of our winnings in the bank, which Jon fought fiercely back about, so we're on our way back to The Institute from the bank. Jordan and Alec are sat in the front of the SUV, Seb and Jon are being idiots in the middle, and Clary and I are having an intense staring contest in the back.

I start taking out the money from my envelope, never blinking or taking my eyes off of hers, and begin fanning myself with it. She giggles quietly and tries to stop me from distracting her, but I just move the money-fan over to her face and start fanning her with my money. I was really smart about which form I wanted my five-hundred dollars in when we were at the bank; the other fifteen-hundred in my bank account for 'college' or some shit like that. All of the other guys got theirs in twenties or fifties, but no. I'm the smart one, remember?

I made the bank clerk give me five-hundred dollars in five-dollar-bills. I would've gotten all ones, but Clary talked me out of it. _She ruins all of my fun; well, most of it anyway._

"Damn you, Herondale!" she hisses, blinking and swatting the money away from her face. I chuckle mock-evilly and grin down at her, placing the large stack of bills back into the envelope.

"I told you that you would never defeat me, lowly peasant. Bow to your king!" I cry, nodding down at her in demand. She just rolls her eyes and scoffs, shaking her head all the way.

"Are we _seriously _going back to this again? I thought that you were done with the whole 'peasant' thing." She states, leaning back against her seat and staring at me in exasperation. I furrow my brow and tilt my head in confusion.

"What 'peasant' thing?" I inquire, not really understanding what she's implying. Clare just laughs under her breath and leans forward in her seat, so that her mouth is right by Jon's ear; who is sitting in front of her along with Seb.

"Jon, does Jace go to the whole 'you are all lowly peasants and I am your superior' thing whenever he wins at something?" she asks, causing Jon to turn around in his seat and plant his black eyes on me. He smirks and nods, looking back and forth from me to Clary.

"Yup. You do it, like, all the time." And with that, he spins back around in his seat and goes back to being a dipshit with Seb. _Fucking traitor._ I glare at him and sit back in my seat, turning my gaze to my window. Clary pats my arm gently and sighs, but I keep my eyes on the window stubbornly.

"It's okay, sweetie. We'll just get Elodie and she might be able to help you out, _Jay_." She whispers into my ear wickedly, her wide grin seeping into her voice. I shudder and shake my head, turning back to her with wide eyes. _Not that damned name again!_

"No. Please, no. Anything but that, Clare!" I beg her, only causing her grin to widen even further. She fixes her features into those of sympathetic, before speaking.

"Oh, _Jay._ You know that I have to help you. In fact, I think that I'll call her right now." She makes as if to grab her phone out of her pocket, but I already have it in my hand before she can even touch the small device. I hold it to my chest as if it's my only life-source and glare down at her challengingly.

"Not gonna happen, Clare." I state, moving the phone out of her grasp when she reaches over me to retrieve it. Clary's eyes widen when she sees my hand move lower down my body, towards my pants, and she reluctantly retracts her hand with her eyes still staring at the phone in my hand.

"You wouldn't dare." She practically growls, whimpering slightly when I use my other hand to pull my jeans slightly away from my skin. I move the phone closer to my pants and dare her with my eyes to make a move.

"You wanna bet?" I dead-pan, no matter how cliché it is. She stills for a moment, and then tries to grab the phone from out of my hand. To no avail though. I stuff the small object into my jeans and smirk at her, wiggling around slightly to make my point. She gasps and makes as if to get her phone out of my pants, but rethinks it and scoots back over to her side of the car.

"Asshole. Now I have to buy a new phone." She mumbles under her breath, causing me to laugh and turn back to my window. _Oh, Clare…_

* * *

When we finally arrive at The Institute, we all pile out of the SUV and into the lobby of the apartment building. I throw an arm around Clary's shoulders and grin down at her when she glares up at me, obviously still sulking about me throwing her phone in my pants. I gave it back, don't worry. It's probably just slightly warm now, but she'll get used to it. _Maybe… _The rest of the guys run ahead of us and grab an elevator, but I make sure to hold Clary back when she makes a move to follow them.

"Are you still mad at me?" I ask innocently, jutting out my lower lip and fluttering my lashes dramatically. Her glare doesn't ease up, so I sigh and toss her over my shoulder before starting towards the elevator.

"Jace! Put me down, dammit!" she demands loudly, causing the few people who were talking in the lobby to look over at us in question. I smirk, imagining the bright-red flush that her face most likely adorns right about now, and just continue walking. "Put me down right now, you jackass." She hisses into my ear quietly, her embarrassment apparent in her tone. When I don't make a move to set her down, Clary digs her elbow into my shoulder as I maneuver us into the elevator that the rest of the guys have gotten. Jon watches on with amusement and laughs when Clary hits her head on the side of the metal box because she was struggling around.

"You better be still up there, Clary. You're going to hurt yourself more than usual if you don't." he tells her in between laughing. Clary stills above me and I carefully lower down to the ground, gently holding her around the waist as she stumbles slightly.

"Are you okay, Clare?" I ask, gazing down at her in concern. She reaches a hand up to her head and rubs it slightly, before looking into my eyes and nodding.

"Yeah, my head just hurts a little. No big deal." She states with a small smile, most likely trying to assure me that I didn't hurt her. I still feel guilty though, so I wrap my arms around her small form tightly and bring her to my chest, kissing the top of her head when she winds her own arms around my waist.

"Sorry." I mumble quietly into her ear, enjoying the feeling of her snuggling into my chest. My stomach tightens slightly when I feel her arms tighten around my waist in response and I silently scold myself for feeling _emotions_ for my best-friend. Like, they're not just plain old brotherly-love emotions either. They're full out I-want-you-to-be-with-me-romantically emotions.

I shake my head slightly and rest my chin on top of Clary's head, no matter how far I have to bend down to be able to do it. _You just need to call Kaelie and go on a date. You're just lonely and need to go out with your girlfriend for a while. God knows that you haven't been on an actual date for about a month,_ I try to convince myself. Unsurprisingly though, I don't feel any better. It could be the whole thing with my supposed _feelings_ for Clary, or it could be the whole deal with which I was seriously thinking about breaking up with said 'girlfriend' just last week.

"You guys should just start dating. Like, seriously. You basically already are." Seb's annoying voice penetrates my thoughts, snapping me out of my depressing stupor. I lift my chin from where it was sat on Clary's head and look over at him, only to see a smug smirk on his face as the rest of the guys nod in agreement with his statement.

"Yeah. You guys are, like, really close. Like, Simon and Izzy close." Jordan throws in, his eyes deep in thought as he nods along with the rest of the group. _Izzy and Rat-boy are dating? Since when… _

I feel Clary stiffen in my arms and bury her face deeper into my chest, so I decide to save her from further embarrassment.

"No, guys. We're just friends." _Even though I secretly wish that we weren't,_ the evil voice in the back of my mind whispers. _What? Who said that? (Insert nervous laugh here)_ "Besides, I already have a girlfriend. Just in case you forgot." I tell them, my tone a little more than bitter when I mention Kaelie. Clary shifts slightly in my arms and for a second I swear that I hear a disappointed sigh, but Jon interrupts me before I can do further investigation.

"Whatever, Jace. Everyone can see the chemistry between you two. You're the only ones who don't." he states, rolling his eyes and leaning up against the wall of the still-moving elevator. _Has it always been this slow?_ I wonder to myself, suddenly eager to be freed from the guys' questions. Telling by the way Clary buries herself even further into my chest; she can't wait to be off of the moving metal box either.

I sigh in frustration and lay my chin back on top of Clary's head, closing my eyes and ignoring the guys' jabs at our relationship until the elevator comes to a stop at our floor. When the 'ding' sounds throughout the small space, I hastily swing Clary up into my arms and make a beeline for my apartment. She giggles breathlessly and clings onto my neck for dear life as I throw open the door after unlocking it, sprint inside of the apartment, and slam the door shut before Alec can catch up to us with his key.

When I make it to my room I carelessly toss Clary onto my bed, shut my door, and then flop down onto my stomach beside her sprawled out form. She scoots over to me until we're both lying on our stomachs and leans her head against my shoulder with a sigh. I look over at her and pick up a piece of her hair, idly twirling it around in my fingers as I study her face intently. _She looks exhausted_, is my first thought. My second is, _she's beautiful,_ but I ignore that one for the time being.

"Are you okay? You look tired." I say softly, moving my gaze down to the strand of hair that I am still playing with. Her eyes close and she nods slightly, leaning her head more onto my shoulder.

"Yeah, I just didn't get any sleep last night. I kept having nightmares." She murmurs, her head slowly sliding off of my shoulder as she talks. I chuckle slightly and gather her into my arms, rolling over so that her head is positioned on my chest.

"Why do you keep having nightmares? Why didn't you come get me?" I ask gently, running a hand through her hair distractedly. She snuggles into the crook of my neck and sighs.

"Just stupid things. Y'know, kittens getting eaten by Jon. Me getting eaten by Jon. Jon getting eaten by Jon. The list goes on and on." She whispers, sounding truly frightened and I have to bite my lip and inhale a deep breath to keep myself from bursting out laughing. _What the- … Why is she dreaming about Jon consuming things?_

"O-okay…" I trail off as my chest vibrates with silent laughter that I just can't seem to hold back. Clary lifts her head up slightly from my chest and glares at me, though amusement hints in her deep-green eyes.

"It's not funny, Mr. I-had-nightmares-about-carnivorous-ducks-until-last-year!" she snaps, trying and failing to scowl up at me as I burst out laughing. After my mind registers what she said though, all amusement leaves my system and I stare down at her with wide eyes.

"That's not even _remotely_ funny, Clare. They ate _each other_!" I exclaim quietly, my eyes going cloudy with memories of cannibalistic birds. I shudder and pull her closer, pretending not to notice her soft giggling as I block out the horrible images of the beasts of the yellow and feathered.

Eventually, we settle down and find ourselves drifting off into a peaceful sleep; both completely content with being in each other's arms.

* * *

Sometime later, I am being shaken awake and out of my serene rest. I blink my eyes groggily open and come face to face with dark-blue eyes and black hair. _Alec,_ my mind registers immediately. I glance down to my chest, where a slight weight is laid, and smile softly at Clary's sleeping form, before moving my gaze back up to Alec. I mouth '_What?_' up to him through a yawn, not wanting to wake Clary up.

"Kaelie's on the phone. Apparently, it's 'urgent'. Whatever that means…" he whispers, mumbling the last part to himself and nodding towards the door. I bite my lip and look back down at Clary's peaceful face reluctantly, before sighing and gently laying her down onto my pillows as I get up from the bed. Alec starts towards the door, leaving me to follow after him tiredly. As I go, I glance out of my window and notice that the sun is just starting to set. _So it's around 4:00 or 5:00…_

I stretch my hands up above my head as I walk down the hall and towards the kitchen, still following Alec. When I enter, he pushes the phone into my hand and exits the room grumpily. _He needs to get laid…_ I look down at the phone, and then after a moment of debating whether or not I should answer it, I sigh and lift the device up to my ear. The phone is Maryse's antique landline, so I hand to move the cord around a couple of times so that it doesn't try to kill me while I'm talking.

"Hello." I state plainly, after I have delayed the inevitable long enough by screwing around with the phone-cord. A high-pitched screech sounds in the background, causing me to move the pone away from my ear with a wince, before Kaelie's annoying voice sounds through the relatively small device. _Has she always been this annoying, or is it just me…_

"Jacey! I've missed you!" she exclaims, causing me to grimace and clear my throat before speaking.

"Yeah me too, Kay…" I trail off, hoping that she'll start talking. When she doesn't, I sigh and lean against the counter with my head tilted back in agitation. "So, you called…" I trail off again, practically telling her to speak now or I'm going to hang up. She seems to get the point, because she giggles and another screech blares into my ears from the background.

"Sorry, that's just Aline. Shut up. I'm on the phone with Jacey, Ali!" her voice fades slightly, as if she's moved away from the phone and is talking to someone else while still talking to me. _Since when did she start calling me 'Jacey'? That's almost worse than 'Jay'. Almost… _I roll my eyes as she continues to talk to 'Ali', whoever that is. _Wait, doesn't Seb have a cousin named 'Aline'-_

"You're taking me out on a date at 7:00. Dinner and a movie. Yay! See you in a couple of hours, Jacey!" Kaelie tells me, successfully bringing my out of my thoughts. I open my mouth to protest that I have plans tonight, _hopefully with Clary,_ but don't get the chance. The dial tone beeps at me and I am just left there to stare dumbly down at the phone in my hand. _But I don't want to go on a date with you tonight…_

With a sigh and a silent curse, I slam the phone down onto the jack and start towards my room. Maybe spending a couple of hours with Clary will help calm my temper down, just so that I don't explode later tonight and get my shirt ruined with mascara. _That stuff's disgusting with a capitol 'D'._

When I'm about to open the door to my room, I see Alec coming out of his in my peripheral and turn around to face him. He looks at me curiously and raises an eyebrow, leaning casually against the doorframe of his door. I bite my lip and blow out a frustrated breath, before thrusting a hand into my hair and deciding to just get it over with.

"Do you think that I could borrow your car later? Kaelie just informed me that we're going on a 'date' at 7:00." I manage to spit out, sounding less than enthused about our 'date'. He stares at me for a moment, before breathing out a disbelieving chuckle as he shakes his head at me.

"You're still with that skan- I mean, '_lovely lady'_? Damn, I really thought you and Clary were a thing-" he cuts himself off, noticing my glare, and clears his throat before continuing. "But yeah. Yeah you can use my car. I don't have a social-life anyways…" he mumbles the last part under his breath, disappearing into his room briefly to retrieve his keys. He tosses them to me when he reappears and I catch them easily. "Just don't scratch her. She's my child." He warns me teasingly, before walking in the direction of the kitchen and whistling the 'Tate Langdon whistling song' under his breath as he goes. _That kid really needs to get laid… but good song either way…_

"Thanks, wonderful brother!" I call after him, hearing his amused chuckle as I enter my room and close the door quietly.

I turn towards my bed and smile at the sight in front of me. Clary is curled up into a ball on top of my comforter and has her hair covering her entire face. I chuckle quietly and make my way over to the bed, sinking down onto the vacant side of it when I get there. I brush the strands of hair off of her face lightly and smile gently down at her when she starts to stir. Her eyes flutter open and she stretches like a kitten as she sits up in my bed.

"Morning." She states, voice groggy and eyes slightly glassy from yawning. I shake my head slightly at her and point to the alarm-clock that sits on my bedside-table.

"More like 'Goodnight'. It's 5:00 at night, Clare." I tell her amusedly, causing her eyes to grow wide. She leaps off of the bed, suddenly wide awake, and starts towards the balcony.

"Shit! I have to go!" she exclaims, pulling open the doors and turning back to me with a smile. "Dad promised pizza tonight." She tells me, excitement clearly visible in her eyes. I furrow my brows at her and stand from the bed, tilting my head to the side in confusion.

"Why does that mean you have to leave, again?" I ask, gazing at her thoughtfully. She grins and shrugs.

"It doesn't, really. I just like hiding Jon's box before he gets any." She tells me. I laugh under my breath and shake my head at her in amusement. _I should've known._

You see, Jon and Clary each get their own boxes of pizza whenever their family has pizza. Apparently, they got into a full-on war once because of the last piece of pizza and practically ruined their mom's dishes, so now their parents just buy them each their own box. All's good now, especially for me. Usually, Clary can't eat her entire box, so I end up helping her. _Out of the kindness of my heart, of course. _

"Well, have fun with that. Bye." I say, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice as I say it. _Now I'll have to suffer through Kaelie's endless chatter by myself; all because my best-friend will be indulged in another man. A man named Stuffed–Crust. Damn him._

"I can come over later and we can have a _Saw_ marathon." Clary suggests, noticing my disappointment despite my efforts to keep it concealed. I'll never be able to hide anything from her. _Never have, never will._ I almost nod vigorously, but then I remember my 'date'. I sigh and smile sadly down at her.

"It would have to be really late. I have a 'date' at 7:00." I tell her, feeling satisfaction bubble up within me when her eyes show disappointment. She bites her lip in thought, and then, after a moment, her eyes brighten up again and she smiles up at me widely.

"Okay. I'll come over after your date and we can have a marathon." She says, causing me to smile down at her from the contagiousness of her smile. "But wait. There's more." She starts after a slight pause, resembling a sale's rep. "I'll text you during your 'date' and keep you entertained. I know that you secretly hate almost everything that your girlfriend spews out of her pie-hole." A devilish glint is in her eyes as she says this, and I can't help but laugh at her childlike excitement about texting me during my date. _She looks like she's going to enjoy this more than I'll ever know…_

I shrug and nod.

"Okay. Whatever you want, Clare." And with that and one final goodbye, she disappears through the balcony and most likely sprints towards her pizza. _And Clary doesn't do running. Like, ever._ I chuckle again and flop onto my bed, face up. _This'll be interesting…_

* * *

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**I love the Tate Langdon whistling song! I don't actually know what it's called, so… yeah.**

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	12. Chapter 12

_Jace POV_

The restaurant was very expensive-looking. I had to bite back a wince when Kaelie announced that we would be going here for our supposed 'date' and had to focus on driving the car without crashing it. _Alec will kill me if I harm his precious 'Baby'._ Kaelie is seated in next to me in Alec's SUV, a small mirror in hand and a tube of sticky-looking lip-gloss in the other. I keep glancing over at her and swallowing as I maneuver the car through traffic. _Why is she dressed like that? Are we going to an underground strip-club instead of the movies after dinner, or what?_

Her hair is pulled up onto the top of her head, too tightly is you ask me, and her dress is practically nonexistent. Her face is caked on with orangey foundation, her eyelashes sticking out several inches away from her face, and her nails are shaped like talons. I'm not usually one to be nervous around girls, especially hot ones, but Kaelie looks as if she's debating whether or not to claw my throat out with her demonic nails.

I am 'dressed to the nines', if that's what you want to call it. _Not by choice, of course._

Kaelie texted me, not called, right before I was about to head out of the door to go pick her up and 'informed' me that I would be wearing my tux tonight. I tried to argue with her about not wanting to 'get it dirty', or something lame like that, but she just told me to 'hurry my ass up or we'll be late' and hung up on me. Least to say, I called Clary and tried to make her call in sick for me. Sadly for me though, she just laughed at me through the phone, came into my room across the balcony, and then proceeded to dig around in my closet until she found my tux. She had thrown it at me with an innocent smile and had said, and I quote, 'Time to put your big-boy panties on_, Jacey. Kay's _waiting for ya_.'_

I had cursed at her and at myself as I pulled on the tux, seriously regretting sharing me and Kaelie's nicknames for one another. Only after I had gotten completely dressed and was starting for the front door, did I realize what she had said.

"I am a man, and men don't wear _panties!_ We wear boxers or nothing at all." She had just laughed at me as I slammed the front-door shut and headed towards the elevators; her musical giggles following me down the hallway.

Currently, I am sitting in a fancy chair, at a fancy table, with my fancy tux nearly suffocating me to death as I listen to Kaelie ramble on and on about some new handbag that I 'should buy her as a gift'. _Yeah… Not happening. _We are sat at a small table in the back of the restaurant, right by the kitchen's entrance. I have my head rested on my palm, my elbow planted rudely on top of the table, and my eyes are threatening to slip shut from boredom.

"-and she said, 'I don't know what you're talking about! This bag is entirely authentic!'." Kaelie finishes off her story, a high-pitched fit of laughter following right after. I chuckle half-heartedly and glance around the restaurant again, wishing that our 'date' would end already so that I can get back to Clary and have a _Saw _marathon. _Do you want to play a game? Hell yes!_

"That's great, Kay." I state, having to force myself to not grimace when I say her nickname. She glares at me, her bright-blue eyes angry daggers, and leans back into her chair in a pout. Her thin, almost chicken-like, arms wind themselves together in front of her chest, pushing her chest farther out of the small dress than it already was, and she smacks her lips together in irritation.

"You know, you could at least try to be interested, Jacey. We are, after all, on a _date_. You," she pauses to point a talon-like nail at me. "and me. The perfect couple." Her eyes become lighter and she smiles slickly over at me. "So, stop being a_ bitch_ and appreciate all that I've done for you." She finishes, her smile turning my stomach and ruining any chances of an appetite that I had left. _Bitch?! Who you calling 'bitch', Bitch._ I clench my jaw, my patience seriously beginning to run out, and sit back in my seat, suddenly feeling the extreme urge to be as far away from her as possible.

"And," I cough slightly and adjust my position, choosing my words carefully since I want to survive the night. "why, exactly, would you say that we're '_the perfect couple'_?" I make sure to put extra emphasis on the last part, not even trying to hide my sarcasm. She doesn't seem to notice though, and just relaxes in her seat with her eyes glittering.

"Oh, silly!" she exclaims loudly, causing me to wince and several of the other table's inhabitants to turn towards us with questioning glances. "We're like that song; the one by _Par Amore_. '_Some things just, some things just make sense; and one of those is you and I'._" she sings, her voice screechy and completely off pitch. Some people from the other tables 'shush' us and I sink down further in my chair, wishing to sink into the floorboards.

"Kay. _Kay_." I say exasperatedly as she continues to sing the damned song. "_Kaelie_! Would you please lower your voice? People are starting to stare." I tell her urgently, but still am sure to keep my voice relatively quiet. She finally stops, _thank Jesus,_ and widens her eyes at me innocently.

"Sorry, Jacey." She giggles out, lifting up her glass and taking a sip of the deep-red liquid. I watch with thinly veiled disgust as she gulps down almost the entire glassful.

Did I mention that Kaelie supposedly 'knows' one of the head-chefs? Well, she does and he let her get an entire bottle of wine without being carded when we ordered our drinks. I turned it down, with being the one driving and all, but she just keeps pouring herself glass after glass.

I sigh and look around the restaurant, taking in the various strings of Christmas-lights that are strung across the ceiling. The waitresses run amuck through the scattered tables, talking and writing orders down onto notepads. I sigh and rest my head against the back of my chair, my entire body slouched unmannerly.

"So," I start, causing Kaelie to set down her glass and look up at me expectantly. "Was there a specific reason that you wanted to go out tonight, or did you just want to go out…" I trail off, now becoming the one who's expectant. She giggles, _more like cackles like a fucking witch,_ and wave her hand towards me like an old-lady.

"Oh,_ you_. Can't a girl take her man out for a bite to eat?" she says flattered, her question not really coming out as a question.

"Um… Sure?" I inquire unsurely. She just giggles again and leans over the table, practically flashing me when her dress pulls down as she does.

"Yes! So, how's the band going?" she asks, running her finger around the rim of her now-empty glass. I sit up a little straighter and manage a semi-real grin.

"Oh, yeah. The band. It's going great, actually. We won a contest last week and Clary got some important talent-scout's name." I tell her, starting to gain interest in the conversation. I vaguely take notice of the slight hardening of her eyes when I mention Clary's name, but decide to just ignore it for the time being.

"_Great_." She hisses; a plastic smile spread across her face. "I actually heard about your contest through Ali. She said that there was a video and told me to check it out- Well, anyways. I checked out the video, and it turns out, that you guys are actually _good_. Like, _really _good. The video had-" she rambles on, but I just stare at her in confusion.

"W-what… What video?" I furrow my brows at her across the table. She looks genuinely surprised as she sits pin-straight up in her chair and gapes at me open-mouthed.

"'_What video?'_ It's, like, a really big deal, Jacey. It's one of the most viewed videos on YouTube." She explains, as if the answer should be obvious. I only shake my head at her in response and run a hand through my hair.

"Oh, come on! Your face is all over the internet and you don't know about it?!" she asks incredulously. I inhale a deep breath and shake my head again.

"No… When did this happen again?" I stare at her curiously, my attention now focused entirely on her.

"I'm not really sure… I can show you, though! I reposted it on my wall…" she starts fishing around in her purse, the sound of lip-gloss tubes and coins rattling around in my ears. "Aha! Here we go!" she passes her phone over to me across the table after typing something into the screen and watches my face eagerly, waiting for my reaction. I glance down at the phone and see a video playing, the volume on the lowest setting.

"_Hey, we're 'The Fallen' and this is our version of Never Too Late by Three Days Grace."_

I blink in confusion, wondering how my voice said that without my own mouth knowing it, and stare at the screen of Kaelie's phone harder. There, right on the screen, is me. Well, me and the guys. The stage at Pandemonium is slightly blurry on the screen and I only have a brief moment to glance up at Kaelie's face, before Jon's guitar sounds from the small device. I watch, interested, as digital-me starts signing and walking around the stage. _Who is that handsome devil? I would tap that. Y'know… if that was possible…_

"What…" I trail off as the crowd starts singing along with me, which was unknown to me until tonight. I am vaguely aware of Kaelie's eyes burning holes into me, but I keep my attention of the small screen.

"You guys have, like, an actual fan-base now. And to think that I thought you sucked two weeks ago." she mumbles to herself, but I still hear her and tear my eyes away from the screen at her last comment.

"You thought we sucked? Why?" I question her, forcing my tone to stay nonchalant and to not grow defensive.

"I don't really like your emo songs, so…" she tells me, her smile sweet and innocent. I clench my jaw, again, and lean back in my chair, pushing her phone back over to her.

"Huh. Good to know." I murmur to myself. _You won't get up and leave your girlfriend in the restaurant. You won't make her cry and then give her reason to guilt-trip you into buying her expensive things. You like your wallet. You do._ "And by the way, it's_ punk-rock. _Not_ emo_." I tell her, taking deep breath and looking around the restaurant again. _Where the hell is our food? We've been here for an hour and I really want to leave_.

"Whatever." Is her reply, before she picks up her phone and starts doing something on it. I sigh and lean my head back, closing my eyes and willing the night to just end. _Can't we just leave and go to the movies so that I can text Clare already?_

You see, Clary made me promise to not text her while me and Kaelie were at dinner. She said something about it being rude and that Kaelie would blame her if we got caught. I didn't really see it that way, but still agreed to her conditions.

"Sir?" A deep voice says right at my elbow. I glance up in surprise, taking in the kind face of the waiter to my left.

"Yeah?" I raise an eyebrow at him in question.

"Your food, Sir." And with that, I glance down at the plate of pasta in his hands. I sit up straight and nod, shaking away all of my thoughts as he sets the plate down in front of me.

"Oh, yeah. That…" I mumble to myself, slightly moving my gaze up to meet Kaelie's. She, unsurprisingly, isn't even looking at me. Instead, she's still typing away on her phone and has a side-salad in front of her. _What a waste of money._

With a shake of my head, I pick up my fork and start eating, remembering just how hungry I am. _Finally! Food!_

* * *

The theater's lights dim, letting us know that the movie is starting, and I rest my head back against the seat in preparation. For some reason, I am suddenly really tired. I was kind of tired at dinner, but now I just feel like the dead walking. Kaelie is in the bathroom, where she has been most likely fixing her make-up for the past thirty minutes, so I don't really see any reason to not 'rest my eyes'.

Just as I'm about to drift off, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I open my eyes with a groan and fish it out, dreading that it'll be Kaelie and that she wants to do something else. To my surprise, pleasant surprise, the screen reads: 1 new message from Clare.

'_**How's skankzilla?'**_

I roll my eyes and chuckle quietly, as to not disrupt the people around me from the movie. Clary's probably the only person in the entire world that I allow to call my girlfriend a skank. _Even if I secretly think that she is one…_

'**I wouldn't know. She's been in the bathroom ever since we got here. I'm starting to think that she fell in.'**

The reply comes almost immediately.

'_**That must suck. For you, I mean. Not me. I'm still eating pizza. It's really good. :D'**_

I bite my lip and shake my head down at my phone. I can just imagine the cunning little smile that's most likely on her face at the moment. After a moment of thought, I decide to entertain myself. Simply because I'm bored and the movie is a chick-flick. _As per Kaelie's request, of course. Because everything is about her, isn't it. _

'**I bet it is good. It's probably thinking the same thing about you, Clare. You naughty, naughty lynx.'**

Yes. I know that that has absolutely nothing to do with what she just said, but just wat for her response-

_Buzz. Buzz. _

I am interrupted by my phone buzzing again. I smirk and laugh under my breath at her reply.

'_**I'm slightly confused about your implications. Please make yourself more clear.' **_

'**Oh, you know. Just that the pizza thinks you're as good as he is. At whatever you two are doing. And, that is, if the pizza is, in fact, a 'he'.'**

I can just see her face right now; flushed cheeks, hiding behind her hair. What I wouldn't give to see her face right about now…

The seat next to me folds down and someone sits in it, so I look over at it. Kaelie smiles at me, her makeup now even more caked on than before, and takes my hand that isn't holding my phone in hers. She laces her fingers through mine, her sharp nails scraping the back of my palm, and leans her head on my shoulder. I discretely slide my phone back into my pocket and look towards where the movie is playing, my only thoughts about how wrong her hand feels in mine. _Has it always been this way? And if so, why have I let this poor excuse for a relationship continue? _

"How's the movie?" she whispers, scooting closer to my side than she already is. I force myself to stay right where I am and to not move away, before smiling falsely at her in the darkness and nodding slightly.

"Great." I mutter, my tone sarcastic but she doesn't seem to notice by the way that she snuggles into my side even more. _She isn't the right person… she doesn't feel right…right like Clary… _

"Hmmm." She hums, before turning her gaze on the giant projector-screen too.

About an hour into the movie, my phone buzzes again. Kaelie is still leaning against my arm, so I quietly tell her that I'm going to go to the restroom. She nods and moves so that I can get out of the row of seats, not really even paying attention to me as she watches the movie. I hurriedly make my way to the door and pull my phone out, already knowing that it's Clary who texted me.

When I finally get outside of the theatre, I unlock my phone and open the new text.

'_**I am done with this conversation. So… what are you doing now?'**_

I shake my head and lean against the side of the building, the night air blowing my hair into my eyes. I run a hand through my hair, slightly annoyed that it's in my eyes, before I type my reply.

'**Standing outside of the theatre and watching small children cross the street.'**

'**With sunglasses on.' **

'**At night.'**

'**Just so you know.'**

I send her multiple messages, hoping that it makes her laugh. Now, is that true? That I'm wearing sunglasses at night and watching small children like a pedophile? No. Am I standing outside of the theatre? Yes, so I figure that it's worth it.

A couple of minutes later, as I stare around me and pull my jacket closer to my form, my phone buzzes; alerting me that Clary has texted me back.

'_**That's… extremely creepy. Like, seriously, Jace? Wow… I have weird friends…'**_

I chuckle and grin slightly down at my screen.

'**You got that right.'**

I type in the sentence, but right as I'm about to press 'SEND', flashes of light surround me and blind me momentarily. I blink harshly and throw an arm over my eyes, trying to block out the bright flashes of light. I fumble with my phone and tuck it back into my pocket, standing up to my full height and squinting from behind my shielding arm to see exactly _what_ the lights are coming from.

"Jace!"

"Jace, what made you want to form the band?"

"Who's the brains behind the title?"

"How long has '_The Fallen'_ been together?"

The questions just keep coming, the flashes of light along with the rapid sound of clicking giving me a headache. I slowly lower my hand from my eyes and take in the sight in front of me, my eyes widening and all of the color draining from my face.

Cameras.

Tons of cameras.

People holding cameras and getting all up in my personal bubble.

It's almost too much for me, but I force a smirk and raise an eyebrow at the relatively large crowd in front of me. Maybe fifteen, twenty, forms are stood in front of me; every single one of them holding a camera. I stare at them in shock for a moment, before recovering and flickering my eyes from to crowd to the door of the theatre. _What the absolute hell is going on?_

"Uh, hi?" I say, although it comes out as more of a question. A lady at the front of the group, who is wearing _way_ too much lipstick, thrusts a camera into my face eagerly.

"Jace. When did you and the rest of the band decide to form a band? Who chooses your music choices? When will _The Fallen _next be performing?" she asks me, her voice sounding extremely like an interviewer. I furrow my brows and step away from her, holding my hands up in an 'I surrender' sign.

"I'm sorry… but what?" I bite my lip nervously and look around me, slightly starting to panic. _What the fuck's going on-_

"Jacey!" a familiar squeal sounds from my left, causing me to swing around and come face to face with Kaelie. She looks excited, if not slightly expectant as her eyes slide right past me to the camera-people. "I see you've found the paparazzi." She tells me without even sparing me a glance; grabbing ahold of my arm and dragging me back over to the 'paparazzi'.

"What's going on, Kaelie?" I demand, my voice hard and my eyes cold. Her eyes flicker up to meet mine briefly, before she barks out a laugh and shakes her head at me; as if I'm a toddler who has just done something extremely cute. _Bitch._

"Oh, Jacey. I called them. They're going to make you _famous._ And after your band goes viral, or whatever, we'll be the hottest couple in America! I can already see it now! It'll be amazing!" she shrieks annoyingly, causing me to wince and glare at her angrily.

"Why would you do that?! I thought that we were on a date!" I hiss; my voice low enough so that the crowd in front of us won't hear. Her eyes widen fractionally and she giggles, resembling a maniac slightly.

"You're too funny, darling. We haven't been on a date in, what? A month? Two? Please. Why do you think I wanted to go out tonight? Just to enjoy your 'company'? No." Her eyes narrow themselves into condescending slits and she eyes me coyly, self-satisfaction practically radiating from her. When she smiles slickly up at me, I can't help but grimace in disgust at the sight of lipstick on her teeth. _Ew. I think I'm gonna throw-up._ "Now, let's go get our faces on the cover of a magazine!" she says, more like orders, me. I just shake my head and chuckle humorlessly under my breath.

"No. Hell no. I'm not doing this shit. Especially not with you, of all people." And with that, I turn around and start down the sidewalk. My feet move quickly, needing to escape the sound of confused murmurs behind me and camera clicks. Behind me I hear an outraged cry and heels clacking on the concrete behind me, but I just keep making my way towards Alec's SUV.

"Jacey! How am I going to get home?! You're my ride!" Kaelie screams after me, her voice portraying her anger. She sounds downright furious, but I just keep moving.

"Take the subway. Get a taxi. Call 'Ali'. Just don't call me again, Kaelie. I mean it. We're done." I call back to her, before I reach the SUV and unlock it. She shrieks loudly behind me and I catch a glimpse of her throwing her purse onto the ground in the rearview-mirror, before I jump into the car and slam the door shut. I back the car out of the slot and take off, forcing myself to not speed as I drive towards The Institute.

I bite my lip and shake my head, wondering how this night could've gotten so messed up. _Clary will make you feel better. Just get to Clare,_ I tell myself as stop the SUV at a stoplight. _Just get to Clare…_

* * *

"That _bitch_! I can't believe her! I'll smash her skull in with her own heels, you just wait." Clay rants, pacing back and forth in front of her bed. I watch with a tired smile as she picks up one of her old teddy-bears and throws it across the room. It doesn't do much damage, with her strength levels being at a solid negative-five, but I still appreciate the effort.

When I had finally gotten back to The Institute, I headed straight up to Clary's apartment. Her parents were watching TV in the living-room when I burst in through their door, slightly panting, and just pointed towards the hallway that leads to her room. I have my own key and they're pretty used to me barging in on them regularly, so this wasn't anything out of the usual.

Clary had been lying on her bed, headphones in her ears and her phone lying right next to her as a movie played on her laptop. She had yanked out one of the earbuds and watched me curiously as I collapsed face-first next to her on her bed, sighing out in exhaustion as I buried my face into her comforter. She had gently ran her fingers through my hair, calming me instantaneously, and asked quietly what was wrong. I told her, after rolling over onto my stomach and watching the rest of the movie with her, every little detail about tonight, and her eyes were swimming with angry clouds by the time I was done.

Now, she is still pacing back and forth as she rants out her anger at Kaelie to me. Not surprisingly, her various death-threats have calmed my unmanly emotions down to a minimum and she has even managed to make me laugh with her creative torture techniques. _Like, who knew that my little redhead would be so violent? Never mind. I did. And do. And will for the foreseeable future. She punches hard for such a small person…_

"Just forget about her, Clare. I broke it off with her anyways, so…" I trail off as Clary's eyes take on a happy expression, my heart thudding painfully loud in my chest at the slight hopeful look in the depths of her emeralds.

"Really?! I mean, yeah. That's too bad." She says, sarcasm dripping from her tone heavily. I chuckle and shake my head at her, patting the bed for her to join me. She does without protest and rests her head on my shoulder when she is by my side. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and bring her closer to me, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as I go.

"I bet that just breaks your heart." I tell her dryly, feeling her unabashed giggle through my side as she laughs. "Back to the topic, we're done. That feels odd to say out loud." I state, laying my head on top of hers. She shrugs and leans back, pulling me with her so that we're both leaning against her headboard.

"Does it break yours? Your heart, I mean." She asks quietly, her voice slightly vulnerable but mostly curious. I shake my head slightly on top of hers and sigh.

"If I said that I feel mostly relieved, would that make me an asshole?" I question her, feeling extremely douche-baggy for saying that.

The sad part of it all is that it's one-hundred percent true. I don't feel any remorse for ending me and Kaelie's relationship, if you could call it that. I feel slightly hurt that she would try to use me for a little fame, but overall I feel pretty good. Maybe a bit hungry, but good. _I'm always hungry though, so…_

"No. She's a bitch and you're too good for her. I've been telling you this ever since you met the whore, but you chose to listen to your 'heart', or whatever." She mumbles the last part under her breath, snuggling closer into my side. The movie from earlier, which happened to be _Land of the Lost,_ was switched out about an hour ago for the first of the _Saw _films.

"Yeah, well… what's done is done. Let's watch the movie and deal with all of this shit tomorrow. I need to watch helpless citizens get brutally murdered and let my mind relax for a while. Okay?" I tell her, sitting up slightly and looking down at her face as she nods and smiles.

"Alright. Are you hungry? I'm hungry and I have most of my pizza left. It's in the fridge…" she stands up from the bed and starts towards the doors, throwing me an expectant glance when she opens the door. I nod and grin, satisfied with her answer.

"Sure. I could eat." I tell her nonchalantly, but I can tell that she sees through my bullshit by the loud laugh that she barks out as she wanders down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"Sure, Jace. Whatever you say." Is her teasing reply, causing a wide smile to split my face. _She knows me too well._

I lean back against the headboard and close my eyes, my smile turning to a soft grin and I exhale and allow my body to finally relax. _See? Clare made you feel better. All you needed was Clare…_

* * *

**Hi! I have one thing to say first:**

**100+ FOLLOWERS! OMG I'M GIVING YOU ALL VIRTUAL HUGS, COOKIES, AND PEGACORNS. YOU'RE WELCOME! **

**Okay, I'm done now. :D Thank you all for being awesome. Simply put.**

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for my stuff. :)**

**Stuff from chapter:**

_**Still Into You- Paramore (Kaelie just pronounces their name like a bitch. ;D)**_

_**Land of the Lost- 2009 (Will Ferrel is amazing!)**_

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	13. Chapter 13

_Clary POV_

My shoes slap against the waxed tiles of the hallway as I make my way to English class. Jace is walking right next to me, his arm slung over my shoulders and a shit-eating grin plastered to his smug face as he 'sneakily' slips my hair-tie off of my braid. I just ignore him and shake my head to myself, continuing down the hall. I sigh as my hair cascades down around my shoulder, having been pulled into a side-braid this morning, and fix an amused glare up at Jace's face.

"Would you knock it off? Please?" I inquire up at him, trying to make my voice sound as if I'm extremely annoyed at him and his antics. His head tilts down towards me and his grin disappears, leaving a mock-concerned expression on his face.

Truth is, I couldn't care less about whether or not if he messes with my hair. I'm so used to it, because he takes my hair out of its braid or ponytail daily, that I don't even blink when I see his large hands sneak up to my hair.

"What are you talking about? I'm not doing anything, Clare. You must be hallucinating." He tells me seriously, though his lip twitches slightly at the corner with a smirk. I sigh, for probably the millionth time since Jace came into my room this morning, and giggle slightly when I feel his fingers weaving themselves into my now-loose hair.

"Having fun?" I say more than question as we near Mr. Wayland's classroom. Out of my peripheral, I see him nod and his grin returns.

"Yes. Very much so." Is his statement, before he finishes untangling my once-braided hair and drops his arm from around my shoulders to open the door to the classroom. I smile to myself when I catch sight of my bag around his shoulder along with his and follow him into the room when the door is open. He had insisted that he carry my bag for me this morning, something he rarely does unless he is in an extremely good mood, and I was too surprised to tell him 'no'.

In fact, Jace has been in a very good mood ever since Saturday night after his 'date' with Kaelie. He was kind of sad when he first came into my room as I was watching a movie, but his eyes shone wit relief. He even said that he was relieved himself, so I have nothing to say about how he should feel _something_ bad after breaking up with his so-called 'girlfriend'. She was, and still is, a bitch. Simply put.

He seems a lot happier now that he's a 'free man', so I figure that it's best to just leave him be and see where he goes next. And I would be lying if I said that I wasn't slightly overjoyed to hear that Kaelie's out of the picture now. _Like I have said many times before, she's a bitch._

We start to make our way over to our seats, Jace in front of me, but he gets stopped a few desks away from our table. I have to catch myself before I run into his back and try to look over his shoulder. I end up just looking around his side with an exasperated sigh, simply because I'm not tall enough to look over his shoulder. _Damn my height._

"So, I heard that you're in a band. That's, like, _really_ hot." A low voice says, causing my attention to snap over to the form that has stopped Jace from continuing to our seats. A girl, someone who has probably been in the same grade as me since grade-school, is standing extremely close to Jace and has one of her hands planted on said person's chest. She has green eyes, _dull in comparison to mine thankfully_, and light-blond hair. She slightly reminds me of Kaelie, and for that exact reason, I decide to get out of here quickly.

I squeeze myself in between Jace and the table that id right next to him and slide around him, for once thankful of my tiny size as I exit the soon-to-be flirtastrophe. _Get it? Flirtastrophe? Like catastrophe, except with flirting- Oh, just forget it._ I grab my bag from his shoulder, where it is hanging loosely off of his lean figure as he plasters a charming smile on his face and leans against a table as he talks to the girl. _Whom I can't seem to think of her name still, but anyway…_

I plop myself down into my chair and start taking out my notebook, watching as Jace nods along to something girl-with eyes-that-aren't-as-pretty-as-mine says with amusement. I shake my head and flip open the cover to my notebook, which has been doodled to death and covered with designs beyond recognition. I bring out a pen, one of the many that I have stuffed into my bag, and click it several times while I debate what to draw until class starts.

_Maybe a unicorn… No. Maybe a rose… No, too cliché. Maybe a giant knife stabbing the helpless blonde girl who is currently trying to flirt with your best-friend… Yes… No. Too possessive-_

"What are we drawing?" a smooth voice inquires my ear softly, causing me to just about jump out of my skin and turn around to face him. Jace chuckles when he sees my startled expression and heaves himself down into his seat next to me. "You okay? You're a little jumpy, there." He states amusedly, pressing a hand to my forehead as if to check my temperature. I scowl and push his hand away, sitting back in my seat stubbornly.

"I'm fine, Smartass. Where's the blond chick?" I ask, turning back to my notebook and starting to draw stick figures idly as I wait for him to answer. I hear him sigh and see him start to take out his books from his bag in my peripheral as I draw a figurine of a ninja. _I got ninja-combat-skills, bitches!_

"You mean Camille? She isn't even I this class. He's a senior and just had to drop off some papers for next period." He tells me, causing me to glance up from my paper briefly with a questioning look.

"Camille… Yeah, I _totally_ know who that is…" sarcasm drips from my tone, making Jace roll his eyes and nudge me slightly with his elbow as he leans back in his chair with a pen in between his teeth.

"I only know her from playing ball. She's on the cheerleading-squad. Team. Whatever you call it." he takes his pen out of his mouth and twirls it around his fingers, resembling Seb when he messes around with his drumsticks. I watch distractedly as he expertly continues to twirl the pen, almost as if in a trance of sorts.

"Yeah… Great…" I mumble softly, before seeming to snap out of my daze and flickering my eyes up to meet Jace's again. He is staring at me intently, his eyes slightly darker than before. _What's that about?_

"Are you in there? Clare?" he waves a hand in front of my face when I don't continue talking, an amused grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. I snap myself out of it and blink up at him innocently.

"Yes?" I smile crookedly and watch, interested, as he chuckles and runs a hand through his hair; the one that's not twirling the pen around.

"You okay?" he presses a hand to my forehead teasingly, causing me to slap it away and poke my tongue out at him as I roll my eyes.

"Fine. So, what are we doing after school?" I inquire, leaning back in my seat with satisfaction when his eyes brighten; having successfully changed the subject. Jace finally stops spinning his pen around and drops it down onto the table.

"Band practice at Seb's. We need to be prepared for that gig you got us on Friday night, remember?" he starts tapping an unknown beat on the table as he speaks and I can't help but think that something's causing him to be nervous.

"Yeah, I know. Um, what's up with you today?" I raise my eyebrows up at him, causing him to drop a smile my way and shrug nonchalantly.

"There's nothing 'up with me' today. I'm just in a good mood, I guess." is his response. I nod, totally not believing him.

"Really? Because I could swear that we chose the wrong guys to be the drummer. I think that you should take Seb's place, what with the rate our going at right now." I state sarcastically. His brows furrow and he stares at me in confusion, still tapping the unknown beat on the table.

"Huh?" He quirks one of his eyebrows up and bites his lip, looking completely conflicted.

"You've been doing drummer moves ever since you sat down. Like, you did the whole 'Imma twirl my drumsticks around like a boss' thing with your pen, and now, you're tapping obsessively. You are acting like Seb did when he first started taking drumming lessons. Stop!" I explain, moving my hands to sit on top of his shoulders and shaking him harshly; which isn't much considering that I don't even reach said shoulders when I'm standing up at my full height. He chuckles and nods his consent.

"Alright, alright. Geez! You don't have to shake me to death!" he cries dramatically, his tone sarcastic and slightly condescending. I drop my hands from his shoulders and turn around to face the front of the room.

"Good. I guess that I'll see you at Seb's, then." And with that, I open up my textbook and start preparing for when Mr. Wayland finally decides to show up to class. I see Jace staring at me out of my peripheral, but keep my eyes trained down at my English-book.

"Wait- but we're in all of the same classes, Clare. You'll see me for the rest for the day, _until_ we go to Seb's!" he tells me, exasperation and amusement in his voice. I don't even spare him a glance and only look up from my book when the door to the classroom opens again and our teacher walks in.

"Clare-" Jace starts, but I just turn to him briefly and place a finger to my lips in the universal '_shhh'_ gesture.

"Hush, child. Class is starting." I whisper to him, having to bite my lip to keep a grin from breaking free when my eyes flicker up to his and take in their affronted expression.

"But- Clare- I'm not a child-" he starts to protest, only to be cut off by me again.

"Hush! Class is starting." I reprimand him mock-seriously and turn back to the front of the room, not able to fight off my smirk when I hear his groan of frustration. "Shhh!" I hiss at him through the corner of my mouth, thoroughly enjoying tormenting him.

"Whatever." He huffs, and then Mr. Wayland starts to call roll and begin class.

_You are one sly mother-fucker, Clary. Yes, you are…_

* * *

I sink down into one of the large bean-bags in the control-room in Seb's garage/recording studio and sigh overdramatically. School was exhausting today and I have absolutely no patience for bullshit at the moment. _But really, who does?_

"Are you going to 'monitor' the soundboard during practice, Clary?" Seb's voice causes me to look up from where I am staring at the floor intently, wanting to know all of its secrets. _You shall tell me what you know, bloody floor!_

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Whatever you want…" I say, not really sure what exactly it is that he wants me to 'monitor'.

You see, I sit at the soundboard during all of the guys' practices and supposedly 'monitor' the large board for Seb. I basically do nothing, because he specifically told me not to touch anything on the soundboard, so I just end up sitting in one of the comfy chairs and listening to their music while playing games on my phone. _Mostly games about killing zombies, but whatever… I'm immature. Fuck being an adult. I'm only sixteen anyways… _

"Kay. We're gonna start now, so… Bye, I guess…" Seb says awkwardly, bringing me out of my thoughts as he retreats from the small room and closes the door behind him. I sigh again and watch the guys set up their instruments through the large, plexi-glass window that is in front of my face.

Jace is fiddling with his gold mic, smiling and laughing at something that Jon says as he slings his electric over his shoulder. I shake my head at the sight of Jace holding a golden mic. _Like, where in the hell does he even buy this shit?!_ I turn my eyes to the other guys and take in the other three forms of _The Fallen_. Jordan is idly strumming on his guitar, Alec is talking with Seb as he adjusts the strap on his bass, and Seb himself is doing that twirling-thing with his drumsticks that Jace was doing earlier. _Shall we call it the cosmic spin? Yes, I think we shall… Who's we?..._

I shake my head at myself, annoyed that I'm talking to myself _again_, and pick up the pair of large headphones that allow me to hear the guy's audio. Setting the things over my ears, I watch as Jon flips a switch on one of the large amps and starts to strum lightly. Sweet music fills my ears and I nod along as my brother starts to get a rhythm going.

Suddenly, he breaks off and stares at Seb as he says something. They both nod, and then Jon walks over to the mic that's set in front of Jordan.

"We're doing _Ghosts by Mayday Parade_, Clare. Enjoy, Little Sister." He tells me, grinning from ear to ear along with the rest of the guys. I nod and bite my lip to smother a giggle as he walks back over to where he was to get into his 'position' so that they can start practice. _Finally_. He nods to Jace, who smirks and brings his mic up to his lips, before nodding to Jordan.

Jace starts singing first with Jordan singing back-up, and then Seb starts to 'drop a beat', or whatever. Jace maintains eye-contact with me all the while that he's singing, and I can't help but feel entranced by his voice.

"_Now this ghost in my bedroom, it gives me advice. He promised one day that he'd teach me to fly. Now when I think that I'm alone, he comes up my way with a devil smile singing, 'This is now my home. You're my wish come true. When you reach that golden cloud, I'll be there with you."_ his smooth voice sings, a wide grin plastered onto his face as he watches me while he sings. I nod at him and smile, never taking my eyes off of his.

This has been happening, where Jace and I will end up just staring at each other for long periods of time, ever since he broke up with Kaelie. I don't really know what it is, maybe it's just the knowledge that he's not under her trap anymore, but it seems like he has been acting odd around me recently. Like, we'll just be watching a movie and he'll absently play with my fingers while we watch it. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's cute as hell and I have to stop myself from staring at his hands when they bend my smaller ones into little shapes, but he's never done this before. He would play with my hair, or draw designs on the back of my hand, but staring at me with dark-gold eyes and playing with my fingers is completely new territory for me.

I guess that I'm no better than him with the whole playing-with-fingers-thing. I have recently taken note of just how much larger his hands are than mine. We were sitting on Jace's bad and had one of the _Dawn of the Dead _movies playing in the background, and all of a sudden I had this extreme urge to look at his hands. He had one resting on my shoulder behind me and the other one was lazily laid across his abdomen, so I just reached over and brought his hand over to where I could look at it.

His fingers are huge, let me tell you. I always knew that he had big hands, but his hands are almost twice the size of mine. _Twice! _ I have also noticed how, whenever he looks at me, his eyes darken and become almost molten-gold in color. His eyes are just so intriguing.

"How was it?" Jace asks, bringing me out of my own head. I smile at him and nod, moving over slightly to the mic that's on the soundboard.

"Awesome! Are you guys doing that for the gig on Friday?" I ask curiously, taking in their joyous expressions as I do so. Jace shakes his head as Jon moves over to take the mic from his hands and places it at his lips.

"Nah. We have something better for the gig. This s just practice." He explains, sharing a secret smile with Jace as he speaks. I sit up straighter and gesture with my hand for him to 'continue', leaning over my mic.

"So… What song is it? Can I hear it?" I question eagerly, my eyes flickering back and forth between him and Jace expectantly. Jon just shrugs guiltily and shakes his head at me.

"Nope. Not gonna happen, Clary. It's a surprise." He practically sings, causing me to groan and protest stubbornly.

"No, Jon. You guys did that last time! You even locked me in the apartment with Max. _Max_, of all people!" I whine, slumping in my seat and watching Jace as he laughs and steals his mic back from my brother.

"Too bad, Clare. It'll be awesome. You just wait and see." He tells me optimistically, ever the charmer. I just huff and run a hand down my face heavily.

"Fine." I drag the word out and settle back into my chair, pouting slightly. Jace just chuckles, along with the rest of the guys, and grins at me through the window. "Are you going to stick Max on me as a guard-dog again? 'Cause that was _really_ annoying last time." I state, watching without amusement as they all laugh.

"Oh, Clare. It's like you know us too well for your own good." Jace says, placing a hand over his heart in mock-flatter. I scoff, roll my eyes, and shake my head at the still-laughing group of boys in front of me.

"Shut up. Let's just get this over with so that I can go home and eat. I'm starving." And at the mention of food, they all seem to get a determined look in their eyes and start discussing what song they'll do next.

With a tired sigh, I make myself comfortable and wait patiently for their practice to get over with. _Things are never good when I'm resigned to being patient…_

* * *

**Okay… so… Hi. I'm sorry about the late update. I really have no explanation for myself… I was just reading, so… Yeah. Enjoy!**

**I may be updating slightly sketchy for the month of December, just because of all of the things I have going on this month. I have my birthday, Christmas, first-semester finals, etc. **

**Cassandra Clare owns all, except for my stuff. :D**

**I have answers to your questions. :D**

**Firstly, some of you didn't know what a Pegacorn is. Well, a Pegacorn is the mixed love-child of a Pegasus and a Unicorn. Therefore, it is called a Pegacorn. **

**Secondly, one of you asked me about 'lemons'. I do not, and most likely never will, write lemons. I just don't. Sorry, guys. Things may get 'steamy' in later chapters, but I won't be writing lemons in any of my stories. Sorry, again. :]**

**I don't actually know if I have the right rating for my story though… I thought that it should be rated 'M' for language, but now I'm not so sure. Please tell me if I have the wrong rating. I'm slightly clueless. :/**

**Stuff from chapter:**

_**Ghosts- Mayday Parade (one of my favorite songs and bands :D)**_

_**Dawn of the Dead- 2004**_

**Okay, I think that's it… Thanks for reviewing and telling me your thoughts. :)**

**Review&amp;Follow**

…


	14. Chapter 14

_Jace POV_

"And may I present to you, the winners of the Semi-Annual Undiscovered Rockers Competition, _The Fallen_!" Luke's voice rings in my ears as I watch from the sidelines of the stage, waiting for Jordan and the rest of the guys to go on the stage before I make my 'entrance'. Clary is stood beside me loyally, her shoulder brushing my arm and a protective glare set on her face in the direction of the large band of teenage-girls behind us.

Shall I explain? I think that I shall.

We are presently at Pandemonium, waiting for Luke to finish 'announcing' us, or whatever the hell his job is, so that the guys and I can finally get on the stage and get this thing over with. We have been here all night; well, since 7:45pm. _And it's almost 10:00pm right now!_ Clary is standing loyally by my side, one of her small hands wrapped around my wrist and a stubborn glare set on her face in the direction of the relatively large group of girls who are staring at me off to the side of where we're standing.

_I know right? When aren't girls staring at me, but this is really too much…_

Ever since we arrived at the club, girls from the other bands who are performing tonight have been swarming us like bees. They have been following us like hawks and prey- _not that the other guys seem to mind, but you know…_ Usually I wouldn't give a shit if girls were fawning over me, since they seem to do so daily, but today feels different. I have been thinking this over the entire night, and I think that I have finally come to a conclusion of as to why I don't want girls flirting with me tonight.

Clary's here.

I just don't really want other people flirting with me in front of her, for some reason. I feel like I'm betraying her or something like that. I just really, truly don't know.

As I scan the small crowd of girls behind me, I spot a head of black hair that makes my skin crawl. Her brown eyes glint dangerously and she smirks over at me, waving her fingers at me mockingly. Her skirt has ridden up to her thighs and her long, glossy hair is pulled up into a tight bun, making her appear as a clone of none other than my ex-girlfriend; Kaelie. _Y'know, if you subtract the color of her eyes and hair…_

Shuddering, I blow out a breath and shake my head, taking a step forward as I notice the rest of the guys make as to move on stage. Luke comes barreling through the small gap that is between the large curtain and the stage and grins, slapping me on the back good-naturedly as he does.

"Break a leg, Kid." He tells me, before wandering over to his seat on the side of the stage. I nod slightly and start making my way fully out onto the large flat-lay, glancing back behind me at Clary as I do so. She gives me an encouraging smile and nods her head in my direction, her bottom-lip drawn in between her teeth as she does. I grin back at her before swinging around to face the audience, shaking myself of the odd feeling I got when I saw her lips. _The hell-? Focus!_

"How are you all doing tonight? Good? Great! Well, as our buddy Luke said, we're _The Fallen_ and this is _Crooked Smiles by Framing Hanley!_" I exclaim, satisfied by the loud response I get from the crowd. I nod my head in Jon's direction and count down quietly, bringing my mic up to my lips in preparation for the oncoming song.

* * *

_One hour earlier…_

I look around me, taking note of the previous band finishing up their performance. Stage-lights and mediocrely sung song-lyrics blare around me, creating the aroma that only comes with being smack-dab in the middle of the mosh-pit. Yes, I am standing in the midst of the crowd in Pandemonium. _Sue me._

The guys and Clary are all standing around me, most likely taking in the competition that we will have to compete with tonight. I should probably be doing the same thing, but I just can't keep my focus off of the ceiling. I'm extremely bored. There, I said it.

The competition/gig started about fifteen minutes ago, and I already want to kill myself. _Yes, the music is that bad. _Naturally, I'm a cocky bastard, but I seriously think that we could destroy the competition tonight. Without even trying, might I add. My ears are literally bleeding, the current band sounds so bad.

Clary's arm brushes mine and I glance down at her, catching a glimpse of her bright smile through the flashes of light coming from the stage. I grin down at her, all other thoughts forgotten because of her smile, and lace our fingers together. She gives my hand a squeeze, causing me to give one in return, before turning back to face the stage.

Taking her actions as a sign, I turn my attention towards the stage too. I see the current band finish up their 'song', _thank god_, and watch with slight interest as Luke waltzes back up onto the stage with a mic in hand. Chuckling sheepishly into said mic, he waves the band, which has just finished performing, off of the stage and looks out into the large crowd.

"Well… that was… interesting." He states, wincing slightly as he speaks. "So, give it up for," he pauses to read something off of a clipboard in his hand that isn't holding his mic, "um, The Apple Crutches." He finishes, blinking up at the crowd and biting his lip as a few claps sound through the relatively quiet club. Scratching the back of his neck and wincing again, he carries on with his announcement. "Anyways, let's continue with tonight's competition, shall we? Please welcome with me, _The_ _Hallowed Grounds_!" and with that, the crowd erupts into applause as Luke makes his exit. Another band swarms onto the stage, taking their positions and plugging in their instruments.

I hear a soft gasp come from my elbow and divert my eyes to where the sound came from, seeing Clary's wide eyes and pale face when I do. She has her hand that isn't clasped in mine covering her mouth and is squeezing my hand in hers with a death-grip, causing me to look down at her with concern. I place my free hand on her cheek and turn her face towards me, so that her eyes meet mine.

"What's wrong, Clare?!" I ask urgently, not liking the dreadful look on her beautiful face. She shakes her head and flickers her eyes over to the stage once more, causing them to become even wider than they already are.

"_Simon_." She breathes quietly; almost too quiet for me to catch. Luckily though, I do and I furrow my brows in confusion immediately after.

"Rat-boy? What does he have to do with anything?" I inquire confusedly, raising an eyebrow down at her in question. She shakes her head more fiercely, causing my hand to fall from its place on her cheek, and removes her hand from her mouth to point in the direction of the stage.

"_Simon_! What is he doing up there? That's not his band!" she exclaims, causing me to look over at the stage in confusion. I open my mouth to ask what exactly she's talking about, but the words die on my lips as I look closer at the band who has just taken occupancy of the stage.

Standing there, right next to a girl with black hair and a skimpy outfit, is Rat-boy- I mean _Simon_. He has one of his normal nerdy T-shirts on, a black bass slung over his shoulders, and has his trademark glasses perched crookedly on the bridge of his nose, but there is something different about him. It's most likely the fact that there's a _hot chick_ standing not even ten feet away from him and she doesn't look like she's about to throw up. _What has the world come to? Rat resembling nerds standing by hot chicks? Ice-cream being served at a lukewarm temperature? _

"Si- What the- Huh?" I stutter out, my eyes growing wide and my entire being slacking with confusion. _Why the fuck is Lewis on the stage? Isn't there a law of some kind that prevents idiots like him to do that-?_

"_What _is he _doing_ up there? That's not even_ his_ _band_!" Clary says loudly, repeating her earlier statement, though her voice is drowned out by the volume of the crowd as they cheer for the band that is about to perform. I just shrug and stare dumbly at the stage, still not comprehending just what the hell Rat-boy is doing at one of our gigs.

He hasn't even come to any of our practices, and now he's _performing_ at one of our gigs? Like, what the hell? This is bullshit!

"Hey, guys. We're _The Hallowed Grounds_ and this is _Lonely Girl by Tonight Alive."_ The girl with black hair says into her mic, winking at some random dude up at the front of the crowd. Clary and I quiet down and watch as the drummer starts to beat off and as the rest of the people on the stage start to play their individual instruments. _Shit! They're actually good!_

I look closer at the girl and notice that she looks familiar. I curse under my breath when the realization hits me like a semi-truck and spin around to find Seb, spotting him not even five-feet behind me. I make my way over to his gawking form and stand by his side, nudging him with my elbow when he fails to notice my presence.

"Wha- huh?" he mumbles distractedly, his eyes wandering back to the stage after a brief glance in my direction. I sigh in frustration and grab his shoulders, turning him forcefully to face me.

"Dude! Why the hell is your cousin up there? You never told us that she was even in a band!" I exclaim, shaking him slightly to get my point across. He yanks himself out of my grasp and shrugs, an incredulous scowl plastered onto his face as he runs a hand through his dark hair.

"I have no fucking clue, Dude! _I_ didn't even know Aline was in a band! Let alone with Lewis!" he yells to me over the loud music coming from the stage. I turn my face up to the ceiling in despair and close my eyes tightly, continuing to do exactly that until I feel a soft, familiar hand on my forearm. Opening my eyes and turning my head down away from the light-littered ceiling, my eyes clash gold with green.

_Clare_, is my immediate thought.

"Do you guys know why Simon is playing the bass for Aline's band, who -might I mention- is your ex-girlfriend's 'BFF'?" she asks, throwing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the stage casually. Seb and I both shrug down at her, identical expressions of bewilderment crossing our features.

"No clue, Clary. Your guess is as good as any of ours." Seb tells her, biting his lip and flickering his eyes from the stage back down to hers. I nod, but don't get to add my response before someone else joins our group. Namely, that person is Jon.

"Why is your idiot of a best-friend up on the stage, Clary? He's not even up there with his _own_ band! Explain. Now." He demands, an angry glare directed down at her. feeling slightly offended by his first implication and feeling the familiar urge to protect my Clare, I gently grab ahold of her shoulders and maneuver her body so that she's tucked into my side with my arms wrapped around her slight form protectively._ That's right. She's my Clare. Mine!_ She sighs and leans into my chest, causing a warm feeling to ignite in the pit of my stomach and blossom up through all of my veins.

"Hey, Asshole! Her best-friend is standing right here. I can't believe that you would even think of comparing me to that weasel!" I tell him, going on defense for my title of 'Clare's Best-Friend'. I feel her body shake against mine as she laughs and I duck my head down so that my chin is rested on top of her head.

"Okay, so now we're going to do _Come Home by Tonight Alive. _Enjoy!" Aline says into the mic, causing all of our attentions to go back to the stage momentarily.

I may have forgotten to mention that we have to perform two-to-three songs at tonight's competition/gig. So, if I did forget, we do.

After _The Hallowed Grounds_, or whatever the hell they call themselves, have started to play again, our group goes back into a huddle and we continue to discuss the situation. I take note that Alec and Jordan have joined our little group sometime while we were watching Aline and Simon's band, meaning that everyone important is here.

"-well that means that you guys will just have to do your best tonight and out-perform them! I called Raphael and he said that he would bring some guys that he knows, who are apparently 'important' in the music business, so you guys have that going for you. Raphael is coming to see you guys; not Aline's band. It's an easy fix, don't stress over it. Okay?" Clary is saying, causing me to tune back into the conversation. All of the guys nod, and I do too just to keep up appearances that I _was _actually listening to what Clary just said instead of staring off into space, and smile down warmly at the small red-head who is currently still tucked into my arms.

"Alright, Clary. Thanks." The guys all mumble out things similar to this while I just pick up a stray curl from Clare's shoulders and twirl it around my fingers, crimson tendrils winding around smoothly. I lean down so that my lips brush the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver to my satisfaction.

"I don't know what you just said, but thanks also, Clare." I whisper lowly into her ear, taking note smugly of the slight hitch that she gets in her breath as I do. She inhales a shaky breath, causing me to grin wickedly and nuzzle my nose into her hair, and clears her throat before responding.

"Y-you're welcome?" she squeaks out shakily, her statement coming out as a question. I chuckle lowly in her ear and make sure to run my lips over it slightly as I straighten up and turn her around to face me.

"Oh, Clare." I mumble under my breath as I take in her flushed cheeks, a devilish grin stretching my features wider. She shakes her head and blinks, as if coming out of a trance, before blowing out a slow, unsteady breath and glaring at my smug face.

"Douche-canoe." She mutters to herself, her dark-green eyes seeming to turn black under the flashing lights of the stage. I shake my head down at her in amusement as he turns back towards the stage and breathe out another chuckle.

_Teasing Clare's just too easy… and fun…_

* * *

_Present time…_

"And now we're going to do _Everything is Alright by Motion City Soundtrack_." I shout into my mic, pumped up by the amount of cheering coming from the crowd. Another wave of screaming the guys' and I's name comes from a relatively large group of girls who are gathered up at the front of the stage rings in my ears as the guys start playing again, and I can't help but laugh out loud at the amount of enthusiasm that we're getting from the crowd.

As I move around the stage, the mic glued to my lips as I blare out lyrics like an expert, I catch sight of Clary standing off to the side of the stage. A wide smile is spread across her features and she is bobbing her head along to the rhythm of the song. I wink at her and give a little nod in her direction as I continue to work the stage, pleased when I see the slight widening of her smile and a small nod towards me from her in response. I let my eyes linger on her for a moment longer as I sing and I detect something in her expression that makes my heartbeat speed up a mile.

_Pride._ That's pride in her expression. She's proud of us? Of me?

I smile at the thought, before I shake myself out of my trance and force myself to face the crowd again.

* * *

"Thank you and goodnight, New York!" I call out into the mic, bowing dramatically before following the rest of the guys off of the stage. Luke smiles at us as he passes us on his way to the stage and I offer him a grin in response. "Always wanted to say that." I mumble to myself as we near the area where we set our stuff down earlier. I look around for Clary, furrowing my brows when I don't spot her res hair.

"Hey, Jon? Have you seen Clare?" I ask him, causing him to raise an eyebrow up at me.

"What do you mean? She's right there-" he starts, but I don't hear the rest of his reply as I am tackled to the ground. I land flat on my back and groan as I feel a small form on top of me.

"The hell-?" I cut myself off as Clary's face comes into my view, all other thoughts disappearing from my head as I take in her overjoyed smile.

"Gotcha! That's what you get for teasing me earlier, Jackass." She whispers, leaning over my face so that her hair creates a curtain around us. I chuckle and shake my head, reaching a hand up to brush some of her hair behind her ear.

"Oh, Clare." I murmur to myself in wonder, still staring up into her beautiful eyes as she leans over me. She bites her lip to hide a smile and opens her mouth as to speak, but never gets the chance as someone else speaks before she can.

"What are you guys doing?" an amused, familiar voice inquires, causing Clary to snap her head up and her eyes to narrow. Recognizing the voice, I sit up and maneuver Clary so that she is off of me as I stand up again, pulling her up along with me.

"Rat-boy. What are_ you _doing here?" I drawl lazily, plastering a condescending smirk on my face and forcing the memory of Clary on top of me out of my head. _For the moment, anyway…_ I pull Clary to me protectively, just because I feel like it, and glare over at the three forms before me.

Simon, Aline, and –to my absolute horror- Kaelie. _Holy shit…_

* * *

**Hi… yup.**

**So, I'm really sorry for the delay, guys. I was really sick, and I still kind of am, so I couldn't really do anything except for focus on finals and that took almost all of my energy, so… yeah. I feel like a say 'sorry' a lot. Huh. :}**

**Tomorrow's my birthday. Yay! Happy birthday Me! **_**You're awesome if you know what that's from. :D**_

**IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT! I may not be updating on this particular story until the beginning of 2015… I just don't know yet. We'll see. Sorry if I don't.**

**Stuff from the story:**

_**Crooked Smiles- Framing Hanley**_

_**Lonely Girl- Tonight Alive **_

_**Come Home- Tonight Alive**_

_**Everything is Alright- Motion City Soundtrack**_

_**(Listen to the songs if you want to. I promise that they're awesome. :D)**_

**The Semi-Annual Undiscovered Rockers Competition is not a real thing**_**. (I don't think…) **_**I just made it up for this story. **

**I just want to thank all of you who have continually supported me and I love you guys! You're awesome! :D**

**If you feel like it, leave a review and tell me your thoughts on my story. **_**Do you like it? Can I fix anything to make it better?**_

**M'kay. Bye. :D**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	15. Chapter 15

_Clary POV_

"Jacey! How are you, honey? I missed you!" Kaelie squeals, causing me to wince and Jace to step slightly behind me. His arm that was around my shoulders drops and both of his hands come up to my not-so-biceps and grip them protectively, so that he is now holding me in front of him defensively. I just stand there, glowering up at the bitch who dated my best-friend -I mean, _Kaelie- _and lean back slightly into Jace's larger form reflexively.

_I love the way his hands mold around my body- _

I blink rapidly at the derailing thoughts and shake my head slightly, totally unsure as of where they came from in the first place. I feel Jace stiffen behind me and a low growl comes from his throat, a warning that he is really close to losing his shit.

"What are you doing here, Kaelie?" he demands, his voice calm yet dangerous at the same time. The Bitch sends a slimy wink to him over my head and smiles, her unnaturally-white teeth gleaming in the dim light of the backstage area of the club.

"Why, Jacey, I'm just supporting my new fave band, babe. Ali, over here, called me and told me about her new recruit. And I just couldn't _wait_ to see you again. We should get a drink, maybe catch up." Her voice hurts my ears. It's official.

A heated, ugly feeling boils up in my chest and my hands clench themselves into fists without my consent. The ugly feeling swells and my vision blurs with unexplainable amounts of anger. _What the hell-? Knock it off, Clary! Right. Now. _My nails biting into my palms, I try to eradicate my breathing before anybody notices. I must be breathing like I just ran a 5k marathon. Which I would never even remotely _think_ about doing in one-trillion years, so…

Yes. Something is wrong with me. Definitely wrong.

Dropping his hands from my arms completely and sliding around me so that he is now standing protectively in front of me, Jace glares over at her darkly. "Mmm hmm. _Sure_. What are you really doing here, Kaelie? I highly doubt that your 'fave' band is _The Hallowed Grounds_. Especially considering the fact that you called my band –which plays the exact same music as 'Ali's does'- 'emo' the last time I saw you, so…"

"So what if I did? I just didn't like that genre of music, and now I do. It's all of the more reason for us to get back together." She paused, glancing over my head again. Only this time, it's at something other than Jace. "We could 'get back together' in the storage-closet, too. You know, if you want to." She continues, biting her lip in what is probably supposed to be a seductive way. Yeah, it's not working out for her. And this is coming from someone who has never 'worked out' in their entire life, so…

Did you get my pun? I'm fucking hilarious.

"God, no…" Jace groans, sounding as disgusted as I feel. I decide to help the poor guy out, like the saint that I am.

"Okay, guys. That's great and everything, but I would really like to know why Simon is here. With a band that isn't his, might I add." I interrupt whatever Kaelie was about to say, glaring daggers at Simon through narrowed eyes. "Explain, Lewis. Now."

Simon, becoming the geek that I know and _used_ to love, swallows thickly and takes a cautious step back away from me. "I- uh- Clary-" he stumbles over himself sloppily, glancing over at Aline for help desperately. She scoffs and takes a step forward, so that she is now only about two feet from being all up in my personal space. Brave bitch.

"Oh, please. He just ditched those losers for a better, newer band. Clerk and Rick, or whatever their names are, suck ass when it comes to being musical prodigies. Like me and my band, Simon now. Besides, they're idiots who can't even keep a rhythm. Simon is, believe it or not, a decent bassist. He would've never gotten to be anything with his little group of nerds-"

I cut her off before she can piss me off any more than she already is. Simon is pissing me off too, frankly. What with him just standing behind The Slut and allowing her to bash his friends with a metaphorical baseball-bat. _Like, what the absolute fuck, Simon?!_

"You should really just shut up right now, because I am this close to-" I start to threaten, holding my thumb and forefinger about a millimeter apart from each other in example.

And then she cuts me off. She. Cut. Me. Off.

"Honey, please step back and let the adults take care of this. We wouldn't want you to learn any bad words or anything. You know, with you being a little girl and all." She sneers, a plastic smile plastered onto her face as she does. Add a high-pitched giggle to the end of it, and I am just about to the point of wanting a gun so that I can off myself.

Maybe you don't have to_ actually_ be blonde, to be blonde. It might just travel like a disease, all contagion and the only ones who are safe are those who actually have a functioning brain cell. Was I the only one who thought that she made absolutely no sense with what she just said? Yes? No? Huh.

Another growl escapes Jace's throat and he takes a threatening step forward, closing the gap between he and Aline so that they are only a couple of inches apart from each other's faces. She seems to get the wrong hint and smiles up at him devilishly and bats her eyes.

_Whore._ My lip curls in disgust and I allow my eyes to flicker over to Kaelie briefly. She is pouting off to the side and has a semi-bored expression on her face as she watches her supposed 'friend' flirt with her ex. I roll my eyes and turn back to Jace and Slut #2, totally over watching girls flirt with Jace.

He's _my_ best-friend, bitches! Back off!

Okay, that sounded just a little possessive. Or was it just me? Must've been… Oh, look! More drama. _Yay_.

"Hey, handsome. What can I help you with." She asks mock-innocently. I step to the side slightly, so that I can see Jace's face, and watch with unbidden amusement as he recoils slightly and scowls.

"Nothing. You can, however, stop talking to Clare like a complete _bitch_ and back off. As a matter of fact, both you and Kaelie can high-tail the hell out of here. Now." he sounds tired and completely done with their shit, and I can't blame him. Although I am a bit surprised that he called her a bitch –because he never calls girls any bad names like that-, she deserves it. He already had to suffer through months of _dating_ Kaelie, and now she practically has a twin? And they're both trying to flirt with him in the same period of ten minutes? I would have started swinging two minutes in, so he gets a medal. Or something special like that…

_Maybe a kiss,_ pipes up the demonic side of my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly against the odd feelings that swell up inside me at the thought of kissing Jace –his lips on mine- and shake my head quickly. When I open them again, Kaelie are both retreating from us and heading for the other side of the backstage area. That leaves Simon, Jace, and I. _This should be good._

Jace crosses his arms over his chest, glaring down at Simon from my side. I watch as Simon fidgets nervously with the hem of his T-shirt and flickers his eyes around the relatively large room, avoiding mine and Jace's like we have the plague. _Who knows, maybe we do?_

"Lewis." Jace drawls lazily, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Simon swallows thickly and ducks his head as he finally allows himself to meet our eyes. Mine more than Jace's.

"Y-yeah?" he inquires warily, biting his lip and taking a mini-step back away from Jace and towards me. _Oh, buddy, I won't save you. I'll probably join in if Jace decides to pummel your face into the ground, so… _

"What," Jace starts, deathly quiet. I even feel a shudder work its way down my spine at the soft tone of his voice, because damn if he doesn't have the whole scary-calm tone down. _It's also kind of sexy… _He might even scare me a little bit; if it weren't for the fact that I know that he would never dare to hurt me. Emotionally or physically, he wouldn't ever even dare. "in the _holy hell_ do you think you're doing? You already have a band. Although sucky and completely lacking all musical talent, they're yours. You can't just jump bands, dude. It goes against code." He finishes, a muscle popping in his jaw as he clamps his mouth shut immediately after.

"And what code would that be, Mr. I Know Everything? Please explain." Simon shoots back, crossing his arms over his slighter chest to mimic Jace's stance. He doesn't even come close to comparison, but he still tries.

Simon's really pushing his luck today, let me tell you.

"The Bro Code of Being in a Band, dipshit. What other code?" Jace bites out every word with venom, uncrossing his arms and dropping one around my shoulders protectively. I roll my eyes and sigh loudly, causing Simon to cut off his retort and look over at me.

"Would you guys just _shut up_, already? God. You both act like Jonathan did when he was a toddler." I say, exasperated to the point of no return.

"_Hey!" _Comes the indignant shout from my brother right behind me. I spin around, causing Jace to drop his arm from my shoulders and follow suit.

Shit. I forgot about the other guys, who have been standing behind me and Jace for the entire conversation. As I has said before –and will continue saying until the day I can no longer talk: Shit!

Jon has his arms crossed over his chest indignantly and is wearing an epic pouty-face. _Child._ "What were you saying, missy? Hmm?" he cocks an eyebrow over at me, his expression expectant. I sigh and shake my head.

"Whatever, Jon. I," I turn back around to Simon briefly, my death-glare on point. "will deal with you later." He swallows heavily and nods jerkily. I give him one last glare before I turn back to Jon and the rest of the group. "I'm gonna go take a breather, it's hot in here." I tell him and the group, before spinning on my heel and making my way over to the backdoor that leads to the parking-lot/alley out back behind Pandemonium.

Once outside, I lean back against the side of the club, brick scraping against my shirt as I do, and close my eyes. I let out a slow, tired sigh and try to allow my mind to relax. Too many things are running through my head right now, and I can feel the beginnings of a headache start to throb behind my eyes. Rubbing my forefingers along the sides of my temples, I lean my head back against the building and go over the situation that just happened.

Kaelie, being the usual bitch that she is, showed up.

Her 'BFF', or whatever, managed to drag Simon into this mess.

And now I feel like punching a hoe in the throat.

_God…_ _this is so screwed up…_

The guys were just starting to get the hang of things, band wise. They got Raphael's attention, who said that he would be in the audience tonight with some 'important business partners' of his, and they have actual _fans_ now. And I don't count.

Teenage girls filled up almost the entire club, and most of them were screaming '_The Fallen'_s name when the guys went up on stage. Some of them were even screaming specific names. _*cough* _Jace _*cough*_

That situation may have caused unwarranted feelings to rise up in my chest, but I managed. I'll continue to manage for as long as I have to; until I figure out just exactly _what_ these strange feelings are.

A large, warm hand lands on my shoulder, and my eyes fly open wide. All of my thoughts, negative mostly, seem to seep right out of my system when I come face to face with the concerned golden gaze before my eyes.

Jace.

"What are you doing out here, Clare? It's freezing, you know that, right?" his tone is soft, hinting at playful, but his eyes are clouded with worry. I muster up a small smile and nod up at him.

"Yeah, I just needed to cool down. All of this crap with Kaelie and Simon is giving me a headache." I tell him, reassuring him that I'm still sane. Mostly.

He smiles softly down at me and brings his lips to my forehead, causing my eyes to flutter shut against their will and a soft sigh to escape my lips. "What can I do to make you feel better?" his words are so soft, a slight whisper as his lips brush against my skin when he speaks. I unconsciously lean into his touch and find my hands itching to touch him, but I keep them plastered to my sides from where they have fallen from my temples. Probably at some point in time while I was still wrapped up in my own thoughts.

"You're doing it. I feel better already." I mumble quietly, opening my eyes when the pressure of his lips disappears from my forehead.

When my eyes meet his, I take an unconscious step back and find myself flattened against the brick-wall behind me. His eyes are so dark, shadows swallowing the gold. I can feel the heat rolling off him in waves through his T-shirt, his body so close that we are almost touching the entire lengths of our bodies.

His lips are parted slightly and his eyes seem to roam over my face as he takes the bottom one in between his teeth. Jace seems to be fighting himself on something, holding himself back from me as he studies my face.

My breathing is coming out in shallow gasps, and my heart threatens to burst out of my chest when his arms land heavily upon the brick on either side of my head. I swallow thickly when he leans down and moves closer, pressing our foreheads flush together along with the rest of our bodies.

He still watches me, careful, calculating, as he leans even closer –if possible-, so that our noses brush against each other's. His forearms are next to land on either side of my head, bringing him so that his chest is only mere inches from my face. My head is tilted up at an excruciating level, but as he brings his head down lower, closer to mine, I can't even think of the awkward angle my neck must be tilted at. Or the way I am struggling to breathe and my knees feel as if someone used a spell from _Harry Potter_ and turned my bones to jelly.

I just can't _think._ Point and blank.

He's so close now. Every part of his body is touching mine, and I can only stare up into his eyes as he takes one of his arms off of the wall and brings it to my face. His large palm cups my jaw while his thumb brushes gently against my cheek, causing my eyes to become heavy along with my breathing. Well, heavi_er_ than it already was.

"Clare…" he whispers, his breath brushing along my lips in the greatest way. I nod slightly in response, unable to think, let alone _speak_.

"Can I…" he pauses and swallows heavily, seeming to search for the right words. "Can I kiss you?" another pause, and my heart –as if it isn't already hammering out of my chest- seems to send throbs to every part of my body. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Jace could _hear_ my heart beating against my ribcage, what with the pace that it's going at currently. "I just- _really_ want- to kiss you." He gasps out finally, his voice low and full of want.

I suck in a breath and try to think rationally.

This is Jace, my _best-friend_. We've known each other for the larger part of our childhoods and have been practically inseparable ever since we met. I know all of his deepest, darkest secrets, and he knows mine. I would die for him, and I know with full confidence that he would do the same.

I would also die if I ever had to live without him.

My thoughts become a jumbled mess the longer I take to think things through, so I finally just decide to go with my gut and deal with the consequences later.

I give him a small nod, my forehead rubbing lightly against his as I do, and watch with fascination as his eyes spark bright before darkening into molten-gold. Jace stares into my eyes for a long moment, seeming to debate with himself rather or not this is a good idea, before his eyes flicker down to my lips and back up to mine again.

His lips brush mine lightly, hesitantly, before he adds more pressure. The kiss is soft, nothing crazy, at first. But then I sigh silently at the feeling of his lips on mine, and a cord seems to snap within Jace.

He growls lowly in his throat, the sound hot and predatory, and kisses me harder, faster. I tentatively reach a hand up and lay it lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart through my fingertips, as I reciprocate into the kiss with just as much force.

He moves his body closer and wraps the hand that was once on my cheek around my waist, pulling my flush against his chest. My other hand comes up and winds itself around his neck, tangling my fingers into the curls at the base of his skull, and I feel Jace nip lightly at my bottom lip.

I sigh breathlessly and part my lips under his, allowing him access to my mouth. His hand at my waist, which has taken residence over my hipbone, gently starts pushing up my shirt and his thumb starts rubbing slow circles into my skin. My fingers make a fist in his shirt in one hand, while the other grabs a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck and pulls lightly. Well, not hard enough to hurt him, but not exactly '_light_' either…

He makes another one of those low, throaty sounds and his grip on my waist tightens. His hand that was holding him up against the wall comes down and gently takes hold up my jaw, tilting my head up further to meet his lips.

We are devouring each other, and I can't help but think that I'm going to be _so_ embarrassed later-

The sound of a heavy door opening causes us to freeze and separate our mouths from each other's.

-or _now_. Yeah, now is the time to be embarrassed. Definitely.

My eyes had fluttered shut sometime while we were eating eat other's faces, but they fly open wide when Jace's mouth is no longer connected to mine.

Jace's eyes are wide, shock showing clearly in his expression. Mine is most likely mirroring his, and he hastily pushes away from the wall, disentangling our arms from each other as he does. He doesn't say anything and just stands in front of me as he tries to catch his breath. We are both panting hard, just staring at each other with wide eyes as we take in deep breaths.

Footsteps sound on the pavement, coming closer to where Jace and I stand, and we both swing our heads over in the direction of the on-comer so quickly I'm surprised that I didn't give myself whiplash. Jace runs a shaky hand through his hair in my peripheral, but all of my attention is now focused on the form in front of us.

Alec stands about three yards away from us, suspicion obvious in his eyes. He walks a little closer and clears his throat.

"Uh, we've been looking for you guys for a while. What are you doing out here-?" he cuts himself off, seeming to realize that he probably doesn't want to know. _How long have we been out here?_ My cheeks burn at the thought of what Alec might've just witnessed and I bite down in my still-tingling lip. "Never mind. Raphael's been looking for you two. He has some guys with him and they need to talk with the band."

When we just stare at him blankly, he says, "The _entire _band, guys. That means the lead-singer and the 'manager' are included. Geez, you guys give me a headache." He rubs his temples and turns around, walking quickly back over to the door that leads to the back-stage area and disappears through it.

Speaking of headaches, I can feel one coming on right now. I bite my lip and duck my head, falling slack back against the wall again. I avoid Jace's eyes, which I know are drilling holes into my head, as I let my hair fall over my face and try to think up ways to avoid the guaranteed disappointing conversation that is about to come.

I can imagine it now. It will be Jace telling me that we should've never done what we just did, and then I'll end up agreeing with him no matter how I feel about it. I'll probably be really sad for the next few weeks, maybe end up devouring gallons of ice-cream, and then-

"Clare?" Jace's concerned voice cut off my internal tirade. I bite my lip, trying to ignore the fact that I can still feel his lips on mine, and slowly raise my eyes to meet his. He is now a lot closer than he was, only standing a few feet away from me and watching me with still-darkened eyes.

"Y-yeah?" I manage to croak out, my voice hoarse and scratchy. I clear my throat and lift my head slightly, trying to make my burning cheeks cool down as I do.

"Uh- Are you- I mean- Can we- um-," he seems to stumble over his words, causing me to grin over at him and let out a small giggle. A wide smile splits his face when he catches sight of my grin and he chuckles under his breath as he shakes his head over at me, a slight flush coloring his cheekbones. Jace almost_ never_ gets nervous, but when he does, it's probably one of the most hilarious things one will ever witness.

"We should probably go…" I trail off, finally pushing off of the wall and straightening up. He seems to not hear me at first, but when he does, disappointment fills his eyes as he nods reluctantly.

"Yeah. Yeah, we should go. Go inside and meet Raphael…" he mumbles halfheartedly, walking closer to where I am standing and holding out his hand. "M'lady." He bows deeply and gives me a cheeky grin, causing another giggle to escape my chest as I place my hand in his.

Jace is back to his usual self. Yippee.

"Oh, why thank you, kind sir. However may I repay you?" I ask in a cheesy, off British accent. He chuckles and brings my hand to his lips, causing flutters to explode in my stomach.

"I can think of something, but we need to talk first." His easy grin is so normal that I nod immediately, but become wary when I take note of the serious edge to his eyes.

"Later." I promise, and he nods before straightening up and slinging an arm around my shoulders.

"Gotcha." With that and another easy grin, he starts guiding me towards the doors that lead back into the club. I lean into his side and his arm tightens around my shoulders, but we don't say a word to each other as we make our way back to the group. To see what Raphael wants.

I try to ignore the feeling of dread that bubbles up inside of me at the thought of how our 'talk' later is going to go down, and end up just pushing the thought out of my mind for now.

_We'll cross that path when we come to it. _

* * *

**I'm back!**

**Okay, so… Hi! I'm back from the unknown and I have news! Yay! **

**I am going to start a new thing where, if you read my other story you already know this, I am going to be telling you guys what new books I have read. I will call it TWB (this week's book) and I will put it in the A/N section of all of my chapters. No matter if I update more than once a week. So…**

**TWB:**

_**The Legend Series by Marie Lu**_

**This is a series of three dystopian novels and they're awesome. So… yeah. Check those out if you feel like it. :D**

**I have to thank all of you for your continued support and for all of the lovely comments that you guys give me on my stories. It makes me feel good and I am trying to use the PM-ing thing so that I can give you guys answers to your questions, but I keep forgetting. I will try though, I will try. :D**

**I have questions for you guys about your holiday. I know that it is **_**really**_** late to be asking these questions, but… here I go:**

**1\. What did you get for Christmas?**

**2\. Did you do anything special for the holidays? **

**3\. What's your favorite food to eat around the holidays?**

**These are important questions, though not really, and I would love to hear back from you in the comments section. Review section, whatever.**

**As always, Cassandra Clare owns all her stuff, I own mine. :D**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	16. Chapter 16

_Jace POV_

"Well, I guess that I'll see you guys on Monday?" Raphael asks politely, a bright smile plastered onto his face as he shakes hands with each of us in turn. I see Clary bite her lip to contain her smile –which she fails at, by the way- and nod out of my peripheral as I shake the man's hand when it's my turn.

We have just struck a deal.

After we were all rounded up from around the club, Raphael introduced us to some of his friends. Jem Carstairs, the co-owner of Heronstairs Productions, was probably the most excited to see us out of the group of men that Raphael introduced us to, and that's saying something considering the large amount of smiles that we were receiving from Raphael's friends.

Jem Carstairs is a kind man, with silvery everything –including his hair and eyes. He was the one who ultimately gave us the offer of coming over to Heronstairs Headquarters next weekend and meeting up with some other important people there. We, of course, said yes, and after all of our parents had given us the 'OK', Jem -as he told us to call him- had given us all business cards of his and then promptly retreated from the building.

I wasn't fully mentally there throughout the entire conversation, but I'm almost positive that he mentioned a record deal sometime in the near future. If everything works out when we go to Heronstairs Headquarters, of course.

Clary clears her throat slightly, causing my attention to snap back to reality.

"A-absolutely. Sure. Okay." She stumbles out, her cheeks flaming crimson immediately after the words leave her mouth. I chuckle as I retract my hand from Raphael's and go to drop a lazy arm around her shoulders like I normally would, but think better of it at the last second and retract my arm, letting it fall down to my side.

Things have been slightly awkward ever since Clary and I came back inside of Pandemonium. She looks like a permanent blush has taken up residence within her cheeks, and still won't meet my eyes. I can't help but wonder if we screwed up big time, with what we just did in the alley, but my mind has been frantically trying to absorb all of the information that Raphael and Jem have just told us, that I haven't actually had any time to think about what the consequences will be.

With my luck, my ass will be underground before I even know that I died.

Jon and Seb not-so-discretely high-five each other before turning back to the important man in front of us with professional smiles on their 'angelic' faces. _Yeah… 'angelic' my ass._

"Sure, man. See you then." Jon says, a charming smile plastered on his face. He gives Raphael's hand two firm shakes, and then steps back and watches as he heads towards the exits of the building, his group of lackeys following obediently behind him.

Clary, who I have been not-so-discretely staring at for who knows how long, bites her lip and blows out a shaky breath as she watches the group of men retreat back into the main part of the club. My gaze lingers on her lips for a moment, thinking back to not even thirty minutes ago when mine were on hers, before I force my eyes back to the group of guys around me.

Seb and Jon are both grinning at each other; Jordan has his arm slung around Maia's shoulders casually and is talking to her in excited, yet quiet whispers; Alec is fingering a hole in his sweater distractedly, although his finger are trembling slightly; and I spot Izzy standing off to the side with the large group of our parents, looking like she would rather shoot herself than be where she is presently.

I don't spot Max among the group, but then I remember that he's too young to even get into Pandemonium; even if it _is _an all-ages club. Nine-year-olds would look particularly awkward had they been seen dancing along to the type of music that is being played tonight.

I'm pretty sure that I must look like an idiot right about now, standing stock-still and staring at each person in turn as I try to piece together my thoughts. I might be going into shock. I really wouldn't be surprised if I am. We have just basically been invited to go play for the co-owner of Heronstairs Productions, so I figure that I have a valid enough reason to be.

_Did that really just happen?_ I don't know, but I'm sure as hell going to find out.

"Shit…" Seb blows out a low whistle and grins a devil's grin, nodding his head like the true jackass that we all know and love. _Or maybe just the former-_

"Man, we're gonna be _rich_!" Jon says, slapping Seb on the back good-naturedly. "The first thing I'm buying is a Segway." He adds, looking off into the distance as if he can 'see it now'.

Clary, I see as my eyes snap back to her after doing their rounds of observing the group once more, raises a hand to her forehead and closes her eyes briefly. She looks as if she is either going to: A. pass out any minute. Or: B. burst out hysterically laughing and crying at the same time. I'm not sure which one I would prefer over the other, but she speaks before I have the chance to decide.

"What the fuck just happened?" she mumbles to herself hoarsely, opening her eyes and looking around the group expectantly. _Right._ _As if_ we _have the answers to that question, Clare._ Frankly, I'm surprised that nobody has started screaming yet.

The night is still young.

"Language, Clarissa." Mr. Morgenstern –I mean, _Val_\- scolds, though his tone is light and holds almost no reprimanding behind it. He has his arm wrapped loosely around Jocelyn's waist and is twirling one of her bright-red curly between his fingers as he watches the group with narrowed eyes. Calculating.

"Sorry," Clary sputters in his direction after a moment, her eyes misty. "I just don't know- I mean- What- Did that just- huh?" she looks completely frazzled and her emerald-green eyes bounce from face to face as she searches for answers, completely avoiding mine.

Hurt uncontrollably blossoms in my chest, but I swallow it down. _Maybe she's just trying to focus on the matter at hand right now? _I try to catch her eye again, but she continues to avoid my gaze.

My heart sinks a little, my brain piecing things together more quickly than I would have liked, and I inhale deeply and clench my jaw to keep my emotions from showing on my face. _Does she regret what we did? Does she hate me now? Oh, God. She can't hate me, she's all I have. She's my best-friend. Shit, I screwed everything up. God dammit!_ My thoughts race a mile a minute and I have to pinch myself rather harshly in the leg to bring myself out of my own head. This is derailing way too fast, and I don't even know all of the facts yet.

_Stop! Right now is not the time to be a pussy. Man up!_

"So…" Alec starts, speaking for the first time in at least an hour. "Should we, I don't know, go home? Or… something?" he asks hesitantly, his sweater's hole long forgotten and his dark-blue eyes roaming all of our faces as he looks for answers.

Jocelyn is the first to act, rushing out of her husband's arms and over to Jon and Clare. She gathers Jon in a tight hug first and stretches up onto her tip-toes in order to plant a giant kiss on his cheek, causing chuckles to be heard around the group as he whines and wipes his cheek off like a ten-year-old. Clary is next, but she just stands still while her mother hugs her and croons about how proud she is of her 'babies'.

A small smirk tugs at my mouth as Jocelyn starts dragging Clary towards the exit, and then I am just standing there as everybody else's parents give them praises and start helping pack up the remaining stuff on our lone bench.

Since we had the forethought to put our instruments in the cars right after our performance, we don't have that much stuff to lug out of the club. Just our coats and whatnot.

Tonight's gig wasn't really a competition –like the other couple that Clare has accidentally signed us up for. It was more of an open mic night, but you had to be selectively invited by the club in order to perform. Kind of like a concert, but not really.

I quickly pull my jacket on, and then I am following the rest of the group out of the club. Bands are still performing on stage, but we can leave since we've already done our part tonight.

When we are out in the alleyway behind Pandemonium, everybody splits off into groups –families in their own cars, and such. I trudge along behind Alec, who drove his own car here, and pause when we reach his SUV. He unlocks the car, and then Jon and Jordan are getting their guitars out of the back of it. They put them in their earlier, along with the rest of our band equipment, so that we wouldn't have to carry our stuff out of the club right now. Good thinking, too, because I don't feel like doing anything right now.

My head is still kind of blurry from tonight's earlier events, and I haven't really given it any time to process things yet.

Clary must have gone home with her mom, because I don't see her anywhere among the rows of cars in the alley. Disappointment floors through me at this realization, but I don't get a chance to dwell on it too much, because Alec slams the back-doors of the SUV shut and turns on me.

"Are you going to just stand there all night, or are we going home? And your answer better be the latter, because I'm exhausted and don't have the energy to deal with your shit right now," he tells me_. The princess needs her beauty sleep_, I think to myself as I roll my eyes and round the car. I hop in the passenger-side of the car and buckle up before facing Alec, who has also strapped himself in and had started the car's ignition. I give him a glare, which in return he just snorts and pulls the car out of the alley.

Halfway home, he turns to me and raises an eyebrow up at me questioningly. "What's got you so quiet? Might it have something to do with a certain redhead? Hmmm?" he questions teasingly, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Tonight's earlier events –ones that may or may not involve an alley and my best-friend- come to mind, and I have to turn my head to hide the slight flush that creeps up my neck at the thought. It's very dark in the car, and I highly doubt that Alec would be able to see my face in the dim lighting of the city lights, but it's better to be safe than sorry, right?

"I'm just thinking," I mutter, scolding myself for not acting like I normally do immediately after the words leave my mouth. Since when have I ever not taken the chance to be sarcastic? Seriously?

"Oh, I'm sure that you're thinking," Alec pauses, glancing at me in his peripheral as he steers the car through a greenlight, "about a certain redhead." He wiggles his eyebrows at me, causing my to roll my eyes at him in turn and force myself to real in my seat. Better not to give anything away; at least until Clare and I have sorted everything out.

"Why do you always assume that I'm thinking about Mrs. Morgenstern? That's a little weird, even for me. I mean, she's married," I tell him smartly knowing fully well that he isn't talking about Clary's mom. "Unless, that is, you have an elder women fetish. But maybe that's it! Do you, Alec? Is that why you're not dating anyone at the moment?" I press, twisting in my seat to face him as I fix my expression into one of 'The lightbulb has gone off'. "Oh, you dirty, dirty little boy, Alexander-," I start to say; only to get cut off by a giggle form the row of seats behind me.

_The fuck-?_

I spin around and come face to face with Izzy. _Where the hell did she come from?!_

"Where did you come from?" I demand, voicing my thoughts. She just rolls her eyes and sighs, as if my presence has exhausted her. _Well then…_

"I've been here the entire time, douche-face. You just didn't notice because you've been caught up in your own mind," she tells me, huffing at the end and cocking her head with attitude. I just sigh and turn back around in my seat to face Alec again, not feeling up to fighting with her at the moment.

The black-haired, blue-eyed boy beside me has a rosy blush covering his cheeks and looks grim from where he directs the vehicle. More smartass comments are on the tip of my tongue, but I bite them back and force myself to look out the window. Just because I'm nervous about what Clare will say later, doesn't mean that I have to take it out on my siblings.

_Bad, Jace! No, no!_

I force my eyes to remain looking out of my window for the remainder of the ride home, to the Institute. I try to calm myself down a bit, because I know that when Clary and I talk about what we did earlier, everything could go to hell. Or everything will be unicorns and rainbows after our 'talk', but I highly doubt that…

* * *

My neck hurts. My lip is bleeding. And I can't go to sleep no matter how hard I try.

I have probably been lying in my bed for over three hours, just staring at the ceiling as I try desperately to go to sleep. I have been biting my lip unconsciously as I lay here, and I only noticed the metallic taste in my mouth like three minutes ago. It's such a bad habit, biting my lip, but I can't seem to stop. Even now, that my lip hurts like a bitch and I have officially wounded myself with my teeth. I have been staring up at my ceiling with my neck cranked at an awkward angle for only god knows how long, and now I have a painful kink in the top part of my spine.

_Way to go, douche-face!_

When Alec, Izzy, and I got home, I practically sprinted from the car and up to our apartment, grabbing my guitar in its case as I went. I basically went straight to my room when I reached the apartment, and then I was climbing over the balconies between my and Clary's rooms, when Maryse called me.

They had gotten home before we did, so they were already off in their own separate parts of the large apartment, doing their own things when I got upstairs.

"Jace, help Alec do the dishes! Please and thank you!" she had called, causing me to groan and reluctantly step back over the railing of my balcony.

I had then proceeded to go do the dishes with Alec, impatiently snapping at him whenever he took too long to do something. And by the time that we had finished and gone back to our rooms, my time was up that I could go over and talk to Clary.

It was 11:00p.m.

It's not like I couldn't have gone over the balconies and into her room, but she could've been asleep. And I didn't really want to create any more tension between us than there already was, so…

I was a pussy and decided that going to bed, like a 'good boy', would be better than facing our problems and fixing them.

_I can feel you judging me right now. So, why don't you go and just shut the hell up!_

I close my eyes and rub my hands down my face, letting out a low sigh. After a minute of lying there like that, I push myself up into a sitting position and drop my hands from my face down to my neck, massaging the kinks out with a wince. My eyes wander over to the clock on my bedside-table, and then widen at the time.

3:00 a.m.

I've been sitting in bed for more than three hours. And I'm still not asleep.

A small part of me reminds myself that I don't have to worry too much, because tomorrow's Saturday. But anxiety still courses through my veins, threatening toxicity.

I should've just went over and talked to Clary, while it was still a remotely reasonable hour of the night. Now though, I have no chance of catching her awake. Even though she stays awake to all hours of the night reading and watching Netflix, Clary's probably asleep right now. She'd have to be crazy not to be-

The creaking sound of my balcony door opening causes my eyes to flicker over to the set of French-doors on the other side of my room. Alarms go off in my head, and slight panic seizes ahold of my heart, squeezing painfully in my chest, but I ignore those signs and quickly reach under my bed for a weapon.

_There's got to be some sort of weapon down here… _My fingers brush something cool and metal. Bring the object out from under my bed, taking in the slim and long figure of it, and then I close my hands around the base of it. _Ah-ha! My handy-dandy baseball-bat! Used for that one time I decided that I wanted to play little league, and then quit after finding out that I had to wait until I was 'old enough' to play anything other than coach-pitch._

_Also used for burglars who sneak into teenagers' bedrooms at three in the morning!_

If my mind wasn't so overloaded with exhaustion and anxiety, I might have taken time to think, _'Oh, yeah, Jace. Good job, buddy. A burglar's going to climb three floors of an apartment building, and then proceed to climb through your balcony doors –which you keep locked at night! You gave the key to one other person, but that could've been stolen. Or maybe, just maybe, the burglar knows how to pick a lock. Maybe that's how he got in. But he still must've had one hell of a big-ass ladder in order to climb three stories straight up. Or, if you would stop being a dipshit for one second, you would notice that you're being an idiot and that nobody would want to break into your room -especially at__** three fucking o'clock in the goddamn morning**__!'_

The door creaks open a little more, and I stand silently from my bed, the bat held tightly in my hands. I have no doubt that I can beat the absolute shit out of a robber, but if they happen to have a gun, I'll need to take them by surprise. Better to swing first, than miss the hit, right? _Literally._

Biting my lip to muffle a chuckle at the lame baseball pun that I've just made –and accidently biting down on the already-split open wound on my lip, causing me to wince again- I move over to stand against the wall, pressing myself flat with the bat aimed at ready to hit some unsuspecting subject.

The door creaks one more time, before I see a black-gloved hand curl around the edge of the door. The door that is open is the one nearest to me, so I can't see the person on the other side, but I'm prepared to attack if needed be.

The floorboards groan slightly as a soft footstep sounds on the old wood, and I tighten my hold on the bat, readying myself to beat the shit out of someone. The person steps in further. And then a figure, dressed from head to toe in black, appears inside of my room.

My mind doesn't take into account that the figure is tiny, almost childlike, or that the hand on the door couldn't be any bigger than Clary's. Oh, no. All that my mind registers is how the figure continues to step into my room, and then proceeds to softly shut the door behind them.

I hadn't noticed the cool wind blowing in the open doorway before, but now my arms are covered in goosebumps and I shiver slightly as I wait for the figure to take action.

The figure walks quietly over to my bed, but stops short when they notice that no one is in it. I raise the bat high into the air, preparing to swing, and at that same moment the figure turns around.

The faint city light that is coming in from the open blinds of my windows creates an eerie effect on my room, and catches light in the figures eyes. Dark-green. Familiar.

A strangled scream erupts from the figures throat right as I'm about to bring the bat down, and I know immediately who the figure is.

Clary.

I try to stop myself mid-swing.

But it is too late.

* * *

**JACE! What have you done!**

**So… hehe… Hi? **

**Please put the gun down, along with the rest of your arsenal! I don't want to die! *sobs***

**And no, I'm not dead. Though some of you might think that I am…. I disappeared; again! I know. I'm sorry. I feel like I say that way too often on here, but I am!**

**I have just had absolutely NO inspiration for this story lately. The last chapter, I was pumped and excited. But now I am like, 'huh?' **

**I don't really like this chapter… but I am 'changing lanes', if you will, into the next phase of the story. **

**I am trying to update more consistently, but I've been having some commitment issues with things, and I keep on getting ideas for other stories, and I just…. *drags hands down face in frustration***

**This chapter alone took me over a month to write; and it's not even that long! So if it's kind of choppy in places and is confusing in others, I'm going to say sorry in advance. It also might be very boring, but I **_**promise you**_** that the next chapter will be better. I have plans now, and I have an actual storyline that I'm going to follow, so… yeah :D**

**I've just been kinda winging it on this story so far, so now that I have something to go off of, things will get better. Promise. **

**Now, onto bigger and better things. **

**TWB:**

_**The Paladin Prophecy by Mark Frost**_

_**Alliance by Mark Frost (sequel to ^ )**_

_**I loved this book, some people didn't though. It's really fun and mysterious and… *sigh***_

_**I don't really know how to explain this book, so… yeah. Check it out if ya' want to. :D**_

**I just wanted to thank all of you people who've followed, and favorite, and reviewed. I know that I'm kind of a shitty person for not updating for, like, a month. And if you guys are still reading this story after waiting for so long, I just want to say, 'THANK YOU! AND YOU GUYS ROCK!' I am going to try my hardest to update y stories at least once a week from now on. I just need to get my head in the right frame of mind, and then I'll be good to go. :)**

**Cassandra Clare owns her stuff; I own mine. :)**

**If you want to, please review and let me know what I can do to make things better, or tell me your thoughts. Thanks. :D**

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	17. Chapter 17

_Previously…_

_A strangled scream erupts from the figure's throat right as I'm about to bring the bat down, and I know immediately who the figure is. _

_Clary._

_I try to stop myself mid-swing._

_But it is too late._

* * *

_Clary POV_

I quietly push open the door that leads to Jace's bedroom, placing the spare key back on top of the doorframe where I always hide it. The door creaks, and I wince silently every time my foot makes a noise on the floor or when the wind blows too loudly in the doorway. Once I'm inside of the room all the way, I close the door with a soft '_click_', and then start tip-toeing towards Jace's bed.

Tonight has been…. Oh, how would you describe it?

Chaotic? Messy? The feeling of being swept up in a tornado, whilst a shark-attack goes on in the background? _Sharknado!_

I was literally exhausted by the time that my dad pulled up to the Institute. I had been almost asleep in the car on the way home, so I thought that if I just went straight upstairs and got into bed, that I'd fall asleep.

Boy, was I wrong.

My mind just couldn't seem to get over the fact that Jace –You know, the guy who I was making out with not even an hour ago?- was only a couple of feet away from where I laid in my bed. My thoughts, no matter how hard I tried to keep them on other subjects, kept drifting back to our kiss. And I had probably just sat there, in my bed, alone, for more than three hours. I just couldn't get my mind to take a break and let me sleep.

So, after pacing back and forth in front of my balcony doors for about thirty minutes while I debated whether or not I should just try to go back to sleep again –which I knew wouldn't work, I finally decided to man-up and go talk to Jace. Because, really, I knew that I would feel better if I at least knew that we were still friends after our little 'slip-up'. _If one could call it that…_

I had climbed across the railings of our balconies, and then proceeded to unlock the door with the spare-key and go inside of his room.

So, now here I stand: looking over Jace's bed, and wondering just what _exactly_ is missing from this picture.

_Oh, I know! Jace, you dipshit!_ I internally pace-palm myself, because I would just look like an idiot if I did that in real life, and start to turn towards his bathroom to check if he's in there, when I hear a soft shuffle behind me.

I spin around quickly, hoping that it's Jace-

-Only to come face to face with a large figure holding a baseball-bat. My eyes widen into moons, and I hastily try to think up a reason as to why someone welding a bat would be in my best-friend's room.

_Maybe he's a robber?! And maybe they have Jace and the Lightwoods all tied up in the living room, gagged and bound so that they have no chance at calling for help or getting away. Oh, god. That must be what's happening, because I don't even think that the Lightwoods own any baseball equipment-_

The figure, who had been in the shadows along the wall before, steps towards me and readies himself to swing. I see gold eyes glint through the darkness of the room, and then the bat is coming towards me. Fast, _really_ fast. And hard. _This's gonna hurt like a bitch._

I scream –not the blood-curdling, '_I'm gonna die!'_ type of scream, but more of the '_What the hell, man!'_ type.

The figure falters slightly through his swing, restraint slowing the incoming bat down a miniscule amount, as if he wants to stop the bat from hitting me. But the momentum is already there, and I see the bat coming straight at me face.

So I do what any other normal human being would do, in this particular situation.

I scream some more, louder this time. And then I duck –well, more like throw myself to the ground, and end up face-planting into the hardwood floor below me.

I hear the bat whizz by above my crumpled body, but my mind is only registering pain in my face. _Ow, mother-fu-!_

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," I mumble to myself as I cradle my face with my hands, rocking slightly back and forth on the floor as I curl up into a ball. There is a loud '_clink_' a couple of feet away from me on the floor, the sound of aluminum hitting wood, and I think vaguely that the figure must've dropped the bat.

"Shit! Clary? Oh, god. Shit, are you okay? I didn't mean to- I thought you were a burglar, or something, and-," a voice, Jace's voice, babbles on above me, panicked and apologetic at the same time. Someone crouches down by my face, and then there are gentle hand prying my own hands away from my face.

Golden eyes come into view; shadowed by the darkness of the dimly-lit room, their pupils dilated with concern and regret.

_Jace,_ my mind practically sings. Butterflies, or whatever the hell you call them, erupt in my stomach at the sight of him, and my cheeks flush as memories of earlier flash in my mind. _Now's really not the time to think of things like that, Clary! Focus._

Jace helps me sit up, and then he is cradling my face between his hands, tilting my head side to side as he inspects me for injury. I have to force myself to not close my eyes and savor the warmth of his hands; because then I would look like a lunatic, and I am _completely_ sane_. Or, at least, that's what my therapist says, anyway._

"Shit, Clare. I didn't know it was you, or I would've stopped myself before I swung. I didn't hit you, did I?" he asks softly, his voice soothing and concerned. I shake my head slightly with his hands still on either side of my face and let out a shaky breath, my body relaxing slightly with his touch.

"No, you didn't hit me," I reassure him. "And, by the way, why in the_ hell_ did you try to hit me with a bat? Where did you even get a bat in the first place?" I add, incredulous anger flooding through my veins. He looks into my eyes sheepishly and grins abashedly.

"Sorry. I thought you were a burglar or something."

I blink. "You thought that I was _a burglar_? I have a goddamned _key_, Jace!" I pause. "If anything, I thought that _you_ were a robber!"

"Me?! It's _my_ room! You could've been anybody, trying to break into the apartment to steal money, or whatever the hell you want!" he says back indignantly.

"Oh, yeah. Because that just makes _so_ much sense, Jace. A robber is_ totally_ going to climb three stories up an apartment building, just so that they can rob _you_, of all people," I tell him, rolling my eyes and softening my words with as slight smile.

"Well, it's like three A.M., so…" he trails off with a shrug, a small grin also tugging at the corner of his mouth, before he fixes his expression back into a serious one. "Are you sure you're alright, though? Because if you're just trying to save me the guilt, and I _did_ actually hit you with that fucking bat," he waves over to the side of us, at the bat that is lying on the floor from where he dropped it, "you need to tell me. I need to know if you're hurt anywhere else."

'_Anywhere else'?_

"I'm not hurt at all. I'm fine, Jace," I tell him, smiling slightly up at him. A small furrow appears between his brows as he looks down at me –and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't adorable.

"Well, besides this, of course." He takes one of his hands away from the side of my face and lightly gestures to my nose. I furrow my brows slightly, and only then notice the warm feeling over my top lip.

My eyes widen. "Is my nose bleeding?"

"Yeah, we should go fix that." He nods, before standing up and pulling my up along with him.

I cup my hands around my nose and mouth as he leads us towards his bathroom, feeling the warm liquid drip onto my hands. He flicks the bathroom's light on over our heads when he walk through the doorway, slightly burning my eyes from being used to the darkness of his room. When we reach the sink, Jace helps me lean over it, and then start wetting down one of his washcloths for my nose. I just awkwardly lean over the sink, probably resembling that of _The Hunchback of Notre Dame, _watching the dark-red fluid drip into the granite sink, until Jace has me stand up straight and quickly places the wet washcloth under my nose, wrapping my fingers around the warm cloth with his to keep it in place.

He quickly wipes the excess blood off from around my face, helps me wash the dark-red liquid off of my hands, and then he proceeds to lead me back out of the bathroom and over to sit down on his bed. He sits down with me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, the still-on light of the bathroom illuminating the room on yellow light.

We are quiet for a moment, just sitting there with his arm around my shoulders and my hands holding the wet-washcloth to my nose, before Jace speaks. Finally.

"So, why are you here-," he starts to say, only to get interrupted by the door that leads from his bedroom out into the rest of the apartment flying open and hitting the wall behind it. The loud '_bang_' resonates throughout the small room, and I wince as the overhead lights flicker on.

Alec and Robert burst into the room, both welding weapons –if you could call them that. Alec is holding a fold-away chair, his eyes wide and alert as he quickly scans the room for any danger there may be, with his hair messy around his head, as if he just woke up; and Robert has a large kitchen knife in his hand, wearing a dark-green housecoat.

"What's going on?! Who screamed?" Robert demands, looking back and forth between Jace and I for answers. I relax and lean against Jace, and he tightens his hold on my shoulders.

"You're a little late, guys. Had there actually been a robber trying to break into the apartment, I would already be dead, and he would already have our money by the time that you two finally decided to come and see why there was a scream. I am extremely offended, and I demand an explanation," Jace tells them, placing the hand that isn't resting on the top of my arm on top of his heart dramatically, as if they have personally offended his deceased ancestors.

I snort and elbow him in his side, causing his eyes to snap down to meet mine with a '_What?_' look. I just roll my eyes and look back at Robert and Alec.

"I don't know what he was doing," Alec pauses to point at Robert, yawning halfway through his speech, "but I thought that Izzy was just watching a movie or something. Her room's right next to mine, so…" he shrugs tiredly, setting down the fold-away against the doorframe before dragging both hands down his face.

Jace scoffs. "So, I could have died; all because you thought that a scream was on the TV? Thanks, bro. I feel_ so_ loved." His tone drips sarcasm, and I watch as Alec sighs and yawns again.

"So there isn't anything wrong here? I can go back to bed now, is that what I'm hearing?" Robert asks, lowering his knife and starting to back out of the room.

Jace nods, and then Robert is hightailing it out of the bedroom, leaving us alone with Alec.

"Well, I'm going back to sleep-," he starts to say as he backs out of the room too, only to cut himself off and halt his movements as his eyes rest on my face. He seems to do a double-take, and then says, "What happened to your nose-? You know what; I don't even want to know. Goodnight," he mumbles, before walking out into the hallway, taking the fold-away chair with him and closing the door behind him.

Jace and I sit in silence for a moment, and then, "I feel utterly and completely abandoned. I could've been killed tonight, and my own family doesn't even care to see if I'm alright."

I force the smile off of my face and get up off of the bed, causing Jace's arm to drop down onto the bed as I stand in front of where he sits. "Oh, please. I'm the one who was actually injured," I remind him, pointing to the washcloth that I'm still holding against my nose.

He chuckles and leans back on his hands, tilting his head back to look up at me. "Yeah, but that's your own fault. You're the one who doesn't know how to land without breaking anything," he points out, grinning up at me. _I'm finally taller than him, for once! Boo-ya, bitches!_

"May I remind you that you tried to _hit me with a bat_?!" I raise my eyebrows and pull the washcloth away from my nose slightly, checking to see if it has stopped bleeding yet. It has, so I drop my hand with the washcloth in it from my face, giving my non-muscles a break.

"And I already apologized for that! God, you never let me have anything, do you?" he huffs mockingly, pointedly turning his face away from me and pouting to make his point. Although, I do see a hint of a smile trying to peak through, so…

"Someone has to take you down a notch," I mumble, my eyes watering as I stifle a yawn. Jace's eyes flicker to meet mine, and then he smiles softly over at me and pats the bed beside him.

"You look tired. Did you get any sleep before you decided to break into my room, or…?" he raises an eyebrow at me, teasing. I sigh and roll my eyes, shuffling closer to the bed. When I'm standing right in front of him, I lift up the washcloth in my hand, which has blood on it, and bit my lip and I look at him in question.

"Where should I put this?" I ask. He nods to his hamper, which is set right outside of the bathroom door, and yawns with his mouth closed.

"Just throw it in there. Your blood won't ruin any of my clothes, don't worry. Maryse just did my laundry, so it's empty." He watches me with heavy eyes as I walk over to the hamper, toss in the rag, and then make my way back over to stand by the bed.

"So, _did _you get any sleep? Because I didn't. I've just been lying here for, like, three hours. Maybe more," he says after a minute, scooting over in his bed to make room for me and flopping back against his pillows. He closes his eyes as I climb onto the bed and lay next to him, and folds his hands behind his head as his entire body relaxes.

I scoot closer to him slightly, feeling the heat that always seems to radiate off of him, before I reply, "No, I couldn't get my mind to relax. I guess that too much stuff happened tonight, and now I'm just still trying to process it."

He nods, and then takes his hand that's closest to me out from behind his head and wraps it around my shoulders, pulling me even closer than I already am, all without opening his eyes once. "Mmhm hmmm," he hums in agreement. "Everything will work out, though. I can feel it," he tells me, his voice so sure and steady that it almost makes tears come to my eyes. For what reason though, I have no clue.

"In the force?" I ask, also closing my eyes and snuggling into his side more.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head and chuckles, the vibrations rattling through his chest and into my cheek from where I have it pressed against him. "Sure, Clare. Sure."

We are silent for a moment, the only sound in the room his comforter rustling as he pulls it up over our bodies, and then I say –hesitantly, "W-we need to talk."

I feel him nod slightly and breathe in deeply. "Yeah, we do. Tomorrow, though. I'm tired, and you're tired, so let's just sleep first. I don't have the energy to do anything other than that right now. Frankly, I might pass-out before we can even start," he tells me, his voice quiet and muffled slightly from where he has buried it against my neck. I force down the shivers that try to slither way up and down my spine when I feel his hot breath against my skin, blocking out the images that plague my mind of earlier. _Not right now, Clary,_ I tell myself. _He's literally __**right next to you**__, fuck-face!_

"Okay. Tomorrow," I mumble, before burying my face further into his chest, letting out a contented sigh when he presses a small kiss against the side of my neck.

"Night-night, Clare."

I giggle softly, and then force myself to quiet down and focus on sleeping. "Goodnight, Jace."

Soon, Jace's breathes are deep and slow; the sure sign that he has fallen asleep. I smile slightly, my eyes still closed, and snuggle further into his chest. He's adorable; even if I would never say that to his face. He would immediately deny it, and say something along the lines of, '_Men aren't adorable, Clare. Sexy? Always. But __**never**__ adorable.'_

After a moment of thinking about Jace's responses to me saying that to him, and after deciding that I just might try it out one of these days, my mind quiets and I find myself drifting off. Sleep. _Finally…_

* * *

**Hello, People. (If you guys are, in fact, people… If you aren't, then that's cool too. Hey, I don't judge.)**

**I have finally updated on time! Mua-ha-ha-ha! See? I can be consistent if I actually try. *winks***

**So, things that are going on… Well, I tried to PM every single person who reviewed last chapter, so… Yay for that! I love talking to you guys –PM-ing, whatever you want to call it. You're just all so funny and fantastic and… *sigh***

**I just really like getting feedback from you guys. It makes me happy that you all enjoy my writing. :D**

**And even if you don't, feel free to tell me. As long as you're being constructive with your criticism, I can take it. I'm a wo-man.**

**I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter; I actually had to break it up into three parts because it was MASSIVE, so… yeah. Enjoy! :D**

**TWB:**

_**Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick**_

_**(This story is actually a saga so… yeah. Go check it out if you feel like it. :D)**_

**I don't own The Mortal Instruments; Cassandra Clare does. I do own my own ideas and the plot, though. So I have that going for me… :)**

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**M'kay. Bye.**

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	18. Chapter 18

_Clary POV_

"So… I was thinking that we should probably talk now? I mean, if you aren't busy or anything," a familiar voice says, startling me enough to drop the book that I'm currently holding onto my bed and snap my head up, hurting my neck in the process.

I wince and raise a hand to rub the back of my neck, my eyes quickly darting over the form that wasn't standing next to my window five minutes ago. "How long have you been standing there?!" I question incredulously, quickly picking up my book and flipping through the pages to find my place in order to avoid meeting Jace's eyes.

"Only for, like, a minute," he tells me, shuffling closer to where I sit on my giant-beanbag. He flops himself down onto the floor across from where I am sat, sitting crisscross-applesauce like a five-year-old. He rests his elbows on his knees and stares at me, until I finally am forced to lift my eyes from my book and meet his.

"What?" I mumble half-heartedly, knowing fully well what he wants.

"We need to talk. Now, preferably. Unless you would rather drag this out longer than you already have, but I would prefer to just get this over with so that I can stop worrying about where I stand with my best-friend," he says boldly, his eyes bright-gold and sharp as he waits for my answer.

I bit my lip and swallow thickly, sending as many F-bombs as possible in my head in his direction. _Little shit-head._

So… Maybe I have been avoiding Jace. All day. By any means possible. But I have good reasoning, okay? It's not like I'm just trying to put off the inevitable for as long as I can. I have a _really_ good reason. And that reason is…

Okay, so maybe I don't _have_ a reason, but- Wait. Who said that? Hehe…

When I woke up this morning, Jace was still asleep. I had rolled quietly out of his arms and landed on the floor, but he was completely passed-out. He didn't even wake up when I ran into his desk-chair and knocked it over. So, like any normal person who is trying to avoid their inevitable fate, I made a run for it. I went back to my room, and I have been avoiding him all day. Well, more like I've been avoiding all human life today. I haven't even seen my parents this morning –which isn't that unusual, considering that they both work on Saturdays- and I only saw Jon once while I was making a sandwich. I do know that he's home though, because I can hear the faint sounds of his guitar coming through the walls every once and a while.

Jace hasn't really made that much of an effort to come see me though, either. He texted me around ten o'clock, asking why I didn't wake him up when I did, and I only replied with that he looked really tired, so I decided to let him sleep for a little while longer. He had asked if I wanted him to come over, but I made up the lame excuse of showering and that he'd be bored if he came over right now. It's not like he hasn't been over here before while I was in the shower, and I fully expected him to come over anyways, but he never did. I was even a little surprised when I came out of the bathroom and found my room exactly like I had left it. But then I had just shrugged it off and picked up a book, deciding that I might as well read since I didn't feel like drawing right now.

And I am still where I had plopped myself two hours ago, sitting on my beanbag with my book. It should be around one o'clock right now, so I should probably go get some food soon, I think o myself vaguely as I brush my thumb along the edge of my book.

"What do we need to talk about?" I ask innocently after a minute of debating what I should say. _Good job, Clary. Just keep dragging it out…_

Jace glares at me. "I think you know."

I shrug and look back down at my book, avoiding his eyes again. "I assure you, I have absolutely no idea as of what you are referring to," I tell him, biting my lip as my voice wavers slightly. I clear my throat to cover it up, but he scoots closer to the beanbag, and I know that I'm just getting myself into deeper shit than I already am in. _Nice, Clary. We just gave ourselves away, so what do we do? We clear our throats like sophisticated mother-fuckers and try to lay low. Job well done!_

"Clare…" Jace warns, leaning further towards me so that his head hovers right next to where I hold my book. I adjust my book up higher and turn the page, not seeing anything as I try to act like I'm reading.

"Jace…" I mimic him, my tone light when his was dark and held unbidden warning. I shift in the beanbag, the blanket that I have spread across my lap rustling as I do, and try to scoot further away from him. To no avail, though.

A loud, '_I've had enough of this shit_' sigh hits my eardrums, and then, "Whatever. I need to talk to you, but if you're going to be like this…" Jace stands up, causing my eyes to flicker form my page against my will, and storms over to the open window, throwing his leg over the edge when he gets there. Alarms go off in my head, and then I am standing up, dropping my book to the floor with a dull '_thud_' and the blanket sliding to the ground as I race across the room towards the window.

"Where are you going?!" I demand, my tone high-pitched with alarm and worry. _Did I really piss him off that much…?_

He pauses halfway through the window's wide opening, straddling the base like a horse and ducking down so that his head is sticking inside of my room. He plants both of his hands on the part of the window that pushes upwards, and then levels me with a smoldering gaze. And I have to bite down on my cheek to keep myself from flinching back at its intensity. "I'm going back to my room, since you obviously can't act like an adult and talk to me."

_Shit. I really __**did**__ piss him off._

That, however, doesn't mean that I'm going to allow him to talk to me like that.

I narrow my eyes at him and plant my hands on my hips. "Okay, Asswipe. I see how it's gonna be. Just because you're being pissy, doesn't mean that you have to take it out on me. So-," I start to say, my sass –as they would say- on point, only to have him cut me off with a tired wave of his hand.

"I don't want to fight with you, Clare," he tells me, his voice softer than before. He sighs. "But we really do need to talk about things. That's why I couldn't sleep last night, and I'm almost positive that it had something to do with why you came into my room and tried to mug me."

"I did not-," I start to protest, but he just cuts me off again.

"And then you started bleeding spontaneously, so we never had the chance to actually_ talk_-," he goes on.

"You tried to hit me with a _bat_-!" I cry, outraged that he's leaving out the crucial parts of our evening. Or, I guess, three A.M. counts as 'morning', so…

He just continues to ignore me, and says firmly, "We need to talk about this, Clary. I'm done sitting in my room and not being able to focus on anything other than if we're still going to be able to be friends, after what we did! We need to fix things, _I_ need to _fix this_! And you won't let me!" I just blink at him as he swings his other leg out of the window and ducks out of my view.

He never calls me 'Clary'. Like,_ ever_. It's always 'Clare'. Having him call me the nickname that everyone and their brother's uncle calls me doesn't feel too good. It almost makes my heart hurt. _But I'd have to actually have one of those for that to happen. *wink* *wink*_

When he has disappeared from my view for a moment, I only then realize that I should probably make sure that he didn't slip and fall to his untimely death. _Not that he could really fit through that tiny gap between our buildings, but… Y'know…_

I dash over to the still-open window and look out of it, prepared to look down in between the small gap that is between our windows, but I don't have to. He is perched in his room now, leaning out of the window slightly and looking me straight in the eyes. Seeing me like a specimen that he has to analyze, in order to pass biology.

"When you want to talk to me, and not act like a five-year-old, you know where to find me. I don't want to fight with you, Clare, but you're making me want to put my fist through a wall," he says, before ducking back into his room and closing his window, sliding the curtains over it directly afterward.

If I weren't so shocked by his little outburst, I would give him grants for the dramatic exit. _Bravo._

I stare at the dark curtains through the glass for a moment, before ducking back into my own room and sliding my window shut also. I stare down at where my hands rest on the edge of the windowsill, stunned by the emotion behind his voice. He sounded angry, but not at me. _Maybe he's just angry in general…?_

After staring down at my hands for a minute, I finally am able to gather my wits and step away from the closed window. I shuffle over to where my blanket and book lay on the floor in front of the beanbag and pick the two items up, tossing them down on top of the vacant beanbag afterwards. My chest feels tight and my breathing is shallow, so I decide that I need to calm myself down. Crying about it won't help anything, and I don't have the right to be crying anyway. There's really no reason for me to be crying, and yet I feel the stinging behind my eyes.

Something is wrong with me. Something is _very_ wrong with me.

I open the door to my room and step out into the hallway that leads to the living-room, biting my lip. I start to head down the hallway, thinking that ice-cream will make me feel better, but then end up going straight back into my room. I race across the room and over to the balcony, throw open the doors, and then I am climbing across the railings. My mind is kind of fuzzy, and I'm not really seeing anything that's in front of me, but my mind is only focused on one thing: _Jace. _

_Get to Jace. Get to Jace. Get to Jace,_ I repeat to myself over and over in my head. _You need to fix things with Jace._

I try the one of the handles on the double-doors that lead into Jace's bedroom from his balcony hesitantly, the dreadful idea that one of them will be blocked attacking me from all sides. If he locked his doors on me, then he must be really mad at me. I could get in with my spare-key, of course, but would I? If the doors are locked, then he obviously wants to keep me out. So, I would just be making things worse if I got in with my key anyway. I might make him angrier with me than he already is-

The handle turns, and I almost sag with relief at its meaning. He's not mad at me. Well, at least, not mad enough to lock me out. This is good. I still have a chance to fix things before they get any worse.

I slowly push open the door and step into the room, poking my head in from behind the door. Jace lies on his back on his bed, his hands folded across his stomach and his eyes closed. He would look peaceful, if not for the pained crease between his eyebrows. He is biting his lip harshly –and I'll be damned if I said it isn't extremely attractive- and his fingers are shaking slightly. _With anger…?_ God, I hope not.

He doesn't seem to have heard me some in, so I softly knock on the door. His eyes fly open, their dark-gold color startling as always, and when they finally rest on my face after scanning the room for the sound, he hauls himself up into a sitting position. His hair is a messy halo around his head, and his eyes look wary as he watches me for a long moment.

"Hi…?" he trails off, raising an eyebrow over at me and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. I step out from behind the door and close it behind me before responding.

"Hey. Um," I pause. "We needed to talk?" I say, though it comes out as more of a question.

He nods. "Yeah. Uh, yeah." He clears his throat and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I just, um, guess that I thought you would want to wait longer than you did. I mean," he pauses to look behind him at the alarm-clock that sits on his bedside-table, "it's only been, like, five minutes." He finishes his speech off with a half-hearted chuckle, and I nod with nervous smile on my face.

Wow, could this get _any_ more awkward?

"Yeah… I just- I mean, I-," I start to say, but the words just won't come out right, so I just settle for a frustrated sigh instead. He chuckles again, though this time it's more out of amusement than just to fill the silence.

"Alright, Clare. Don't hurt yourself too bad." He seems more relaxed now, and the sight of him causes the tightening in my chest to cease slightly. I breathe out slowly in relief, as to not let him notice, and walk further into the room, fiddling with my fingers as I stare into his eyes.

"So… Are you still mad at me, or…?" I ask hopefully, rocking forward onto the balls of my feet and batting my eyelashes at him with a sweet smile. He looks at me for a moment, confused, before he shakes his head slowly.

"I was never mad at you, Clare. I'm just…" he trails off with a thoughtful look on his face. "Frustrated, I think would be the right word. I mean, so much is going on right now, and then there's the thing that we did, and-," he starts to rant, his voice getting faster and faster as he thinks more. So I decide to give him a break, and cut him off.

"You make it sound like we murdered a group of third-graders. Calm down, dude. We just kissed," I tell him lightly, though my throat gets tight when I say the last part, and I cough out a small laugh to cover it up. I force myself to say it nonchalantly, but my heart physically hurts and I have to bite down on my cheek directly afterward to keep myself in check. _It shouldn't be this hard. Gah!_

Jace doesn't seem to be taking it any easier, because he winces when I say the word 'kissed' and covers his mouth with his hand; most likely trying to cover it up.

He clears his throat, again, and nods. "Yeah, I know. I just don't want things between us to be awkward, or anything like that. You're too big a part in my life for things to just go to hell in a hand-basket after one little kiss, Clare." He stands up from where he sits on the bed, and then steps forward until he is only a few feet away from me. He sounds desperate to make me understand, to make me know what he is feeling.

"I don't want that either. You're my best-friend, Jace. And if what we did, no matter how insignificant it may be, comes between us and threatens our friendship, then… It shouldn't have ever happened in the first place. Right?" I tell him, my voice wavering with uncertainty throughout the whole thing. _That's what he wants, right? For it to never have happened? That's why he's wanted to talk to me all day, isn't it? _

The reaction that I get from him isn't what I expected at all. He looks, dare I say, _heartbroken_?! Something seems to crack in his eyes, and then he drops them to the floor, avoiding mine even when I try to catch his gaze again. After he is silent for a while, I begin to get nervous. "That's what you want… Right?" I ask hesitantly, debating whether or not if I should step forward and comfort him, or if I should just stay where I am.

He swallows and is quiet for a long moment, before he nods slightly and coughs. "Um, yeah. I mean, no…" he sighs. "I don't know. Is that what _you_ want?" he asks me, lifting his eyes briefly to meet mine before they fleet away and back down to his feet. I am so surprised by the emotions swirling in his eyes that I forget to respond for a minute. He looks so… vulnerable. Jace –strong, nothing-can-touch-me Jace, _vulnerable_.

Well, that's certainly a sight that I would never have thought I would see again. I mean, the last time he cried was right after his parents' deaths, and that was when he was ten.

Truthfully, I thought that he was indestructible. Apparently though, I was wrong.

"I don't know," I mumble, suddenly feeling very small in front of him. _What does he want from me? I don't know what to give him, dammit!_

He shifts from foot to foot for a minute, and then he seems to just give up, and his eyes finally lift to meet mine. This time, they hold my gaze without flitting away and down to his feet. _Progress!_

"God, what are we _doing_?! We're best-friends, for Christ's sake! Things have never been this awkward before!" he cries finally, sounding completely fed-up with the silence. I find a small grin tugging at my lips, and then I start giggling to myself. He watches me with a cocked eyebrow as I double over and continue giggling, a content smile spreading wider and wider across his face as I giggle away to myself.

"What are you on, Clare? And if its drugs, can I have some," he says after a moment, starting to chuckle to himself as he watches me try to catch my breath.

"S-sorry! I just," I break off as another giggle escapes my mouth, "can't believe that we're talking about this. It's so weird!" I start laughing again, and I see him shake his head at me.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you? I'm trying to be all serious and 'adult' about this, but you start laughing like a maniac before I can even really get into things. I give up, universe! Strike me down where I stand!" he shouts the last part up to the ceiling, cupping his hands around his mouth in a make-shift megaphone gesture.

"Shhh! You're going to make someone call the cops, what with your yelling and all. Somebody probably reported a murder last night when I screamed. Though, I can't really blame them if they did. I_ did_ almost get bludgeoned by a baseball-bat," I tell him when I have calmed myself down enough to speak, covering his mouth with my hand to stop him from yelling again.

"Mmmfm mmm mfm mfmf mmmm mfmf mfmm," he mumbles against my palm, his breath warm against my skin. I roll my eyes and shake my head at him.

"I don't speak your native language, dipshit."

He pauses, and then a wicked glint enters his eyes as he stares down at me. I feel his lips pull back in a smirk against my palm, and then my eyes widen as I understand what he's thinking.

"If you lick me, dumbass-," I start to warn, only to feel something warm and wet against my hand. I shriek and pull my hand away from his mouth, wiping it on his shoulder as I throw numerous F-bombs his way. "Mother-fucking dickwad-!"

He crosses his arms over his chest and chuckles as I start slapping his shoulder, having given up wiping off his spit and just resulting to slapping him. He doesn't even act like it hurts, the fucker.

"Is that supposed to hurt, Clare? 'Cause if it is, I really need to teach you how to throw a punch. I mean, really?" he mocks me, causing me to give up in my attempts to damage him –if only slightly permanent, I will still be proud of my work. That dream, though, will never come true now. _Thanks, Jackass!_

Stepping back away from him and fixing a glare on his face, I scowl and say, "Jerk-face."

He sobers up pretty quickly at that and steps closer to me, gently grabbing ahold of my elbow and wrapping his fingers around my inner-arm. "Don't be mad, Clare. I was just teasing you," he says softly, blinking innocently down at me as he gives me a small smile. I roll my eyes and sigh, deciding that it's not worth being mad at him for.

"Whatever." I pause, noticing a major fact that we seem to have missed. "And as nice as this has been, we still haven't fixed anything."

He nods and sighs, and it's now do I realize just how very close he is. My head is only a foot away from his chest, and my neck is tilted back at a painful angle that I didn't notice I was holding it at until now.

"Fine," he says, dragging a hand down his face. "So, what do we do? We can't really change anything, so… Should we just forget about it and move on, or…?" he asks, though he sounds less than enthused about his idea. In fact, he sounds like he _hates_ that idea, but… _What can you do?_

"Y-yeah. Yes. That would be best, I think," I tell him, avoiding looking into his eyes and staring at his T-shirt. I can see that outline of his muscles through the thin material, and images of my hands on his chest assault my mind. I push them away, blushing fiercely, and avert my eyes to the floor. I feel a gentle finger under my chin after a moment, and then my head is being tilted up and my eyes are forced to meet Jace's.

"Is that really what you want, Clare? You need to tell me is that's what you want, because your cheeks say otherwise," he whispers hotly, his face only inches away from mine. I feel his hot breath on my lips, and my breath hitches as more images assault my mind.

_That's a bad girl, _a reasonable voice in the back of my mind scolds me._ Bad, Clary!_

I shiver and try to respond, but my mind seems blank. My eyes dart down from Jace's to his lips, taking in the soft-pink color and noting just how much I want to feel them against mine.

_You need to stop this! Right. Now. Things will only get worse if you don't listen to me-!_

"You need to tell me what you want, Clare. Do you want me to stop, or-," Jace starts to mumble, his lips brushing over mine as he speaks. I inhale shakily and find myself eager to hear what his 'or' implies.

"Yes?" I whisper, my eyes steady on his.

His eyes darken to an almost black color, but he doesn't say anything. I start to get restless, and I can feel his hand that is holding my elbow burning against my skin. Static seems to crackle between the two of us, and I bite my lip as I wait for what comes next. Because I'm pretty sure that I have an idea as of what it is, but I just need to make sure.

Jace's eyes flicker down to my lips, he bites down on his own in the sexiest way, and then something in me just _snaps_.

I take a step closer to him, pressing our bodies together tightly, and I feel him along the entire length of my body.

His breath hitches and stills in his chest, his eyes burning with a light that I hadn't noticed until now.

I place my hand on his chest, my fingers curling into the material and fisting it so that I have ahold of him.

He just stands there and lets me do what I want, his hand that was previously holding my elbow loosening its grip and his other hanging loosely at his side.

I go up on my tip-toes, pressing our foreheads together and our lips brushing as I stare into his eyes.

He swallows thickly, a hunger in his gaze that makes me ache.

I wait a second, seeing if he'll push me away or not.

He doesn't.

And then I close the remaining distance between us, brushing my lips against his with more force than before.

My eyes flutter shut.

Then he is kissing me hard, bringing his hand that was at his side up to cup my face and winding the one that was holding my elbow around my waist, pressing me flush against him.

I kiss him back, fierce and hot and wanting, and willingly allow him to take the lead.

He presses our lips together harder, and then his lips are gone form mine.

I feel so cold, empty.

Alone.

And then I open my eyes.

* * *

**Well, well, well. Who's the evil asshole that makes you guys want to put your fists through a brick wall? This guy. *points to self* Or, I guess, girl… if you want to get all technical…**

**There's the chapter, I guess. Hope you enjoyed it. :D**

**Oh! By the way, who's excited for The Shadowhunters TV show?! It's gonna be on ABC and I just… I can't even express just how excited I am for this show! The show-people are presently casting RIGHT NOW! I just… Eeek! I'm just really excited!**

**Cassandra Clare owns her stuff; I own mine. You know the drill. :)**

**TWB:**

_**The Darkest Minds Trilogy by Alexandra Bracken**_

**Oh. My. God. I absolutely love this series! In the Afterlight –the third and final book to the trilogy- came out at the end of last year, and I just… I was so excited. This series is dystopian, kind of… I don't really know. It's just really good. If ya' feel like it, go ahead and check it out. :D**

**Okay, I'm done.**

**Thank you to all of you who reviewed, followed, and/or favorited. It makes my day. :D**

**Review&amp;Follow, if you feel like it. **


	19. Chapter 19

**Before we get started, please keep in mind that what happened last chapter WASN'T a dream. I repeat, IT WASN'T A DREAM!**

**Okay, please read on. :D**

* * *

_Jace POV_

It's Monday.

I inhale shakily as the large building of Heronstairs Productions looms up in front of me as our car rolls closer. The tension in the car is practically visible, and the still silence that we have all lapsed into isn't helping very much. A small hand is clasped tightly in mine, and I give it a squeeze as I try to calm myself down.

I don't know if I'm ready for this, I really don't. I don't even know if anybody is ready for this step –it's huge!- but we're here now. And sadly, we would be idiots if we didn't take this opportunity.

"Oh, god," Jon mumbles under his breath, breaking the silence that has settled like a deadweight in the SUV, and causing my eyes to flicker over to where he sits on the other side of the car. He has his forehead pressed against his window, and his skin is pale and ghostly white. He almost looks as if he's about to be sick.

Clary, gazing concernedly at her brother from her seat in between the two of us, places her hand that isn't currently holding onto mine on his shoulder. "Are you okay, Jon? You look like…" she trails off, a frown crinkling her brow. She bites her lip and opens her mouth to speak again, but Jon sit up straight before she has a chance.

"Oh, my god. Shit. Holy shit. We're at Heronstairs Headquarters," he states factually, his eyes wide and staring straight ahead into nothing. He turns to face Clary, and places both of his hands onto her shoulders. "What are we gonna do? Holy shit! They're gonna hate us, and then I'll never get a Segway. Clary! I need to get a Segway before I die!" he exclaims, shaking her smaller form back and forth. I scoot over and lay a hand on his shoulder, halting his ministrations in death-by-earthquake-ing my best-friend.

Clary stares at him with wide eyes as I say, "Calm your tits, dude. There's no need to shake your sister to death."

His eyes flicker to mine, and then he slumps in his seat, effectively causing my arm to flop back down to my side. He crosses his arms over his chest, and his features turn worried. "Sorry. But really, though. They're gonna tell us that we suck, and then I'm gonna eat my feelings. Then next thing you know, you'll have to roll me out of the living-room whenever I have to take a piss, because my fat rolls are heavier than the rest of my body, and my legs won't be able to support my fat ass!" he tells us seriously, a look that resembles panic flickering in his eyes.

I am at a loss for words, for once in my life. _But really, what the hell does one say to something like that? 'You'll be fine, dude'?! 'I heard that P90-X works if you try hard enough, and lay off the Twinkies'?!_

Yeah… No.

Clary doesn't look like she knows what to say to that either, and just slumps back against me like all of her energy has just been drained out of her. Jon stares at us expectantly when neither of us offers suggestions or condolences, and I open my mouth to say something along the lines of '_It'll get better, bro'_, when I hear a semi-muffled snort form the front seat.

Specifically, the driver's seat. Alec.

"I'm sorry," he starts, coughing as he tries to cover up his laughter, "but… really, dude? You just," he breaks off again, giving up coughing and just bursting out laughing as he guides the car into the parking-lot of Heronstairs Headquarters. "God, Jon. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were one of Izzy's friends at a slumber-party. No offence, Clary," he says after a moment, flickering his eyes to meet Clary's in the rearview-mirror. She just shrugs and waves off his comment, a slight smile spreading across her lips.

Izzy, however, doesn't take the comment as lightly as her friend.

"Hey, asshole! I could comment on your choice of company-," Izzy starts to say, only to get cut off by Alec coughing again, loudly this time. Though, I'm willing to bet money that his reasons for coughing are different than last time.

"Izzy! Enough," he tells her, jaw clenched and his humor completely draining form his face as he sobers up. He looks slightly panicked, mixed in with small amounts of anger and betrayal.

Izzy purses her lips, and looks as if she's about to say something else, but then she just resorts to staring out her window and glaring at the car next to us in the parking-lot as we all start unbuckling.

Alec suddenly gets a look of regret on his face, but he just turns the ignition off and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and walking around the back to start getting our instruments out. I decide to just let it go, for right now –but I will _definitely_ be interrogating Alec on that further later- and get out of the car, helping Clary down after me.

She smiles up at me, looking slightly unnerved, and then takes my hand when I offer it to her. "That wasn't weird," she whispers to me as we round the back of the SUV.

I shake my head sarcastically. "No, not _at all_."

My sarcasm is up to par, if I do say so myself. _And I do say so myself, so…_

Heronstairs Headquarters is huge. Like, the building is _ginormous_! I don't know why I never considered this thought until now, but what we're about to go do is a big deal. A really, _really_ big deal. This morning could very well determine our futures, if everything goes as good.

When Clary and I reach the back of the SUV, Alec has already gotten down his and Jon's instruments and is slamming the back-door shut. He locks the car, and then picks up his bass and starts towards the large building in front of us. Izzy marches after him, with Jon in tow, and Clary and I bring up the rear. I stare at the building in front of me with big eyes, and try to allow my brain the time to absorb the massive structure.

It's made entirely of glass; the windows, the doors, everything. It almost looks as if it would break into a trillion tiny shards at the first slight breeze to hit the building, but I know that this notion isn't actually possible. The walls have to be at least a foot thick, so it would take a little more than wind to break it. _I hope. _

When we reach the entrance of Heronstairs Headquarters, we all push through the revolving door and into a massive lobby. With my hand still clasped in Clary's, we follow behind Alec as he walks over to the front desk-thing that is planted dead-center in the middle of the room. Behind me I hear the door turn again, and then quiet, familiar voices fill the air behind me. When I glance back, I see that it's just Mr. Morgenstern and Robert –who drove their own cars here because they have to go to work afterwards- and all of the people who rode in Seb's car.

Now that I think about it, we have brought a small army of people with us today. That might not be very appreciated by our hosts –Jem Carstairs and Raphael Santiago- but they might not notice… Maybe?

Maia and Izzy insisted on coming, for 'moral support' or some shit like that, but I think that they just really wanted to get out of going to school; Robert and Mr. Morgenstern were obviously needed to come, given that we're all still technically minors –and also that we wouldn't want to sign anything that might sign our souls over for eternal damnation –you know, the usual; there's the five of us who are in the band –because, you know, that's kind of the whole point we're here today; and then there's Clary, our 'manager'. We would have even more people with our group, but Maryse forced Max to go to school –which he fought fiercely against- and Mrs. Morgenstern had to work today.

I feel like I'm rambling. I'll stop now –you're welcome.

Alec says a few words to the kind-looking lady at the front-desk, and then he nods and starts towards the large waiting area on the right side of the lobby. We all follow after him, not saying anything until we are all sat down on the sleek white-leather couches and armchairs, and Clary pulls me over to sit next to her on one of the couches. I sink down heavily, and Clary bounces up and down slightly as the pressure changes in the cushions beneath us.

When I see catch her slight glare, I send an innocent smile in her direction and give her hand a squeeze. She just ends up rolling her eyes, but she doesn't get to say anything before Alec starts to talk.

"Okay, so Jem and Will, the co-owners of Heronstairs Productions, are in a meeting right now, but the secretary said that they'd be out within the next fifteen minutes," Alec says, rubbing his hands together nervously as he glances around at all of our faces. Most of us just nod in acknowledgement, but someone –namely Jon- isn't content with just being quiet.

"So, we'll actually get to meet with Will Herondale!? I thought that we were just going to come play music for Jem and Raphael, but-," Jon starts to rant, only to have Alec butt in and cut him off.

"Jon, we're going to be _playing for_ Will Herondale. And Jem, and Raphael. You were there when we discussed coming here today…" His tone is calm as he says this, like he's breaking news to someone who is prone to overreacting, but he twists his fingers nervously in his lap.

Up until now, I haven't really ever considered how mature Alec is being. He's the second-oldest in our group –not counting Robert and Mr. Morgenstern- but he's acting like an _actual_ adult. It's frightening, and yet alarmingly says something about his character at the same time. Alec is easily the most mature out of the group, I already knew, but he might actually have a chance in the real world. I'll have a pretty hard time when I graduate high-school, but Jon is going to be living with his parents for years to come. Alec will most likely just adjust to his new surroundings, and become a successful… eh, whatever he wants to do as an adult.

Maybe he'll be in our famous band... if all goes well today. Fingers crossed.

Jon is quiet for a moment, but when he finally is able to respond he just nods and swallows. Very unusually quiet, for Jon. He'll most likely freak out later, and then we'll all have to lock him in his room until he calms down.

Just like any other normal Monday.

Alec nods in approval when he sees that Jon isn't going to start fangirling and bawling like an idiot, and he seems to release a slow breath as he sits back in his chair. He has his bass rested horizontally against his shins, and it looks as if he hasn't slept in days. So, maybe Jon isn't the only one who is overly nervous about today; Alec just hides his anxiety better than some people.

Namely, me. I've got to stop bouncing my leg up and down –which I didn't even notice I was doing until now; it's driving Clary crazy.

She places her hand that isn't currently being held by mine on top of my knee and digs her nails through the fabric of my jeans into my leg. "Knock it off, Jace. I mean it." She's so cute when she tries to be intimidating –it's like a cuddly little kitten trying to climb the stairs, but it can't even see over the first step. So cute, and completely adorable.

Great, now I sound like a girl. Just wonderful.

Clary, though, is a completely different issue. One that I, admittedly, don't really want to go into too deeply at the moment. _(That's what she said… ;D)_

So… we kissed. Yeah, that happened. And then we kissed again. And it was great. Then we just kind of ignored each other for two days. That wasn't so great. We finally just decided to ignore the situation altogether, so now we're kind of at a… stand-still, if you will.

An impasse.

Neither of us is going to mention the 'situation that shall not be named', and eventually the awkwardness between us will disappear. All that I have to do is not stare at her lips at all, and use minimum contact when we're alone, and everything will be fine again. Back to normal.

I hope. Or maybe I don't –I'm really not sure of anything at this point in time. It's all kind of a blur.

Taking one step at a time sounds good. Yeah, let's go with that.

So, basically what happened was Clary and I decided to never kiss again, that it wasn't very good for our friendship, after we kissed in the alley behind Pandemonium. Our agreement lasted a whole twenty seconds, and then I fell over and my lips landed on top of hers… accidently? Yeah, right. That's _totally _what happened… Yep, let's go with that theory for the time being.

Just go ahead and admit it to yourselves already: I'm a dipshit.

I have doomed myself to a fate of having awkward feelings for my best-friend, and now I can't even keep to my own urges in check. It exhausting, really.

I force my thoughts to take a different route, and my mind lingers on something that Alec said earlier…

_"__Jon, we're going to be playing for Will Herondale. And Jem, and Raphael. You were there when we discussed coming here today…"_

Wait. Herondale? As in, _Jace_ Herondale? Like, my last name?! Interesting…

"Hey, Alec," I say, causing him to look over at me expectantly. He nods, and I continue. "So, about what you said earlier-," I start, only to have a friendly voice start talking over me.

"_I'm so glad that you guys could make it! I'm sorry about the wait, but we were discussing what paint the bathrooms on the fifth floor should be, and I guess we lost track of time_…" the voice says, causing us all to look over.

There, standing with his hands folded neatly in front of him, is James Carstairs. Jem, as he told us to call him when we first met him last week. He looks sheepish as he offers us all a smile, but he still manages to look professional. We all start rising form our chairs, and Mr. Morgenstern goes to offer Jem a hand.

"It's no problem at all. These kids could use to learn some patience, anyway," he tells Jem jokingly. Jem chuckles and gives Mr. Morgenstern's hand a shake, before he waves our group over to him and starts walking backwards –to where, I have no clue.

"Okay, guys. So, you are just going to play a few songs for me and my colleagues –and don't worry, they don't bite," he pauses to send us a wink, and we all shuffle behind him with our instruments and belongings in hand. "You guys have nothing to prove, we all already know how good you are, but William just wants you to humor him." Jem rolls his eyes, as if this doesn't surprise him in the least.

Again with that name: Will, William Herondale. If I wasn't so focused on not screwing everything up right now, I would totally be pressing for some answers.

"We need to go up to one of the studios," Jem continues. "So, in you go." He presses the 'UP' button on the elevator, which he has led us to while he talked, and then the doors slide open soundlessly. We all file in, and I find myself standing next to Clary again, her hand clutched tightly in mine.

I glance down at her, only to find her eyes already fixed on my face. A slight blush floods her cheeks, but she otherwise just offers me a smile and the slight squeeze of my hand. I grin down at her half-heartedly, and I think that she notices, too. A small line appears between her brows, and I have the sudden urge to smooth it out with my thumb. Of course, I don't. Not only because that is way over-used and totally cliché, but things would get awkward; you know, what with having her dad and brother crammed in the moving-metal-box with us and all. Yeah, that might not go down so well.

That would go down about as well as Oceanic Flight 815 did, and we all know how _that _turned out…

The doors to the elevator slide open, and then Jem is leading us down a long hallway that is lined on either side with doors. Everything is black and white here, very modern-looking. It almost resembles my bedroom, if you don't count the black, and I'm not sure if I should be concerned for myself or not…

Oh, well. Probably not.

Jem finally comes to a halt in front of a set of black French-doors, and he pushes them both open with a flourish before he turns to address our awaiting faces. He offers us a smile and tilts his head towards the now-open doors.

"This is where you guys will be playing for us today, and hopefully in the future. Just go on through the door at the back of the room," he pauses to point at a door that we can see from where we all are crowded in the hallway, "and I'll be right back with your audience," he tells us, gesturing for us to all go in as he starts backing down the hallway form the opposite direction that we've just come from. "William should be around here somewhere…" he mumbles under his breath, affection seeping into his tone as he says 'William', before he dashes down the hallway and out of sight.

Jon and Seb are the first ones to walk in, but it looks more like Seb is having to drag Jon into the room. Jon actually looks terrified, and his face is pale as a ghost as he stumbles along with Seb. I start to feel the nerves hit me again, but I don't have time to have an existential crisis as Clary is pulling me into the room.

It's a recording booth. I should've already guessed this, but as my head is so far up my own ass at this point…

Red and black leather chairs are positioned in front of a massive soundboard –much like the one in Seb's garage, only bigger and more expensive-looking- and a low couch lines the walls at the back of the room by the door. Seb, dragging Jon along behind him, leads the way again through the door at the back of the room, and Jordan and Alec follow behind him closely. I stand there for a moment, before a small tug on my arm makes me look down.

"You should probably go set up, Jace," Clary tells me quietly, smiling encouragingly up at me. I nod slightly, my stomach lurching at the thought of having to sing in front of Jem and 'William Herondale', but I can't find it in me to make my feet move.

Mr. Morgenstern and Robert are standing in the doorway of the recording booth, I notice out of my periphery, and Izzy and Maia are standing next to Robert with 'angelic' smiles on their faces.

"I'm not sure if you girls should be in here… You might distract the boys, and that's the last thing they need right now," Mr. Morgenstern is saying, sharing a look with Robert.

Izzy sighs as if she's tired of this conversation, and says, "Dad, Mr. M.-," she pauses to inhale deeply and motion to Maia and herself, "we'll just sit in the back. Look, there're even couches. We won't make a sound, I promise. We're here to support the guys, though, so I think that we have a right to be here. Almost more of a right than you two do, if you think about it," she tells Robert and 'Mr. M.' smartly.

I roll my eyes when they allow her to stay in the room, before turning back to the door. I take a deep breath, give Clary's hand one more squeeze, and then start towards the door. I look back at Clary before I go into the studio fully, and find that she's looking back at me with a soft smile on her lips.

"You'll do great, Jace." With that, I feel my usual cocky side come back, and a wicked grin spreads across my face.

I send her a wink, and say, "I know I will, Clare. See you on the other side!" I say the last part teasingly, feeling slightly better about singing, and then I duck through the doorway and into the studio.

I look around me, and take everything in: The walls padded with black foam, for better sound; the already pre-setup drum-set; the various mics and speakers and cords littering the floor; the four nervous faces looking at me as I walk into the room and close allow the door to fall shut behind me.

Nerves = Back with a vengeance.

I lock eyes with Alec, who has his bass propped up against his leg, and then nod and try to smile over at the guys.

"So… Let's not screw up, alright?" Good one, Jace. _Very_ moving.

Jordan chuckles, and the atmosphere seems to get a little less tense as everyone nods and smiles a little bit.

That doesn't last long, though, because Jem enters the room with a tall guy with stark-black hair. Jem says something to Mr. M, but I can't hear it through the thick wall of Plexiglas that separates us form them. The dark-haired guy next to Jem shakes both Mr. M's and Robert's hands, and offers a charming smile at Izzy and Maia. My eyes narrow on their own accord, and immediately think, _That guy has to have at least ten years on Izzy! Who the hell does he think he is, smiling at my sister-!_

Before my thoughts can get any darker in threats and ways to torture the dark-haired mystery man, Jem presses a button on the soundboard and smiles at us through the glass.

"Hello again, guys. This is William Herondale, the co-owner of Heronstairs Productions," he says, pausing to nod at the guy standing next to him.

Said guy waves at us, but his charming smile is gone and now he is staring at us with his 'bitch-face'. He looks like he's analyzing our every move, and I fight the urge to fidget, force myself to stand still and not give anything away. _He could be one of the government's reptiles, for all I know!_

My mood has shifted between anger, protectiveness, and nervousness way too fast within the past minute, and now my head hurts. Damn.

"Just play whatever song you guys feel most comfortable with," Jem says, bringing my head back to what we're doing presently. "And just tell me when you're ready. We've already adjusted the mics and the speakers, so you guys are ready to go!" he smiles at us, and then he and the dark-haired mystery guy –_William_\- take seats in the red and black chairs that are sat in front of the soundboard. Their faces get serious and businesslike as they watch us get ready to play.

After Alec, Jon, and Jordan all nod to me to signal that they're ready, and after Seb taps his sticks together twice to show he's also ready, I quietly start to count down. We've been practicing this same song for about a week now, and I'm almost sick of it we've played it so many times. But, hey, at least we're prepared, right?

Jon starts playing, and I inhale as I count off the beats in my head. Through the glass, my eyes meet bright emeralds, and I feel the nerves in my gut give a little as my cue nears. A small smile and a nod form Clare is all that I get to see, before I open my mouth and start belting out lyrics. _God, I hope I don't screw up… Don't screw up, dammit!_

* * *

**Don't worry, Jace, you're a flawless baby! You'll be more magnificent than Magnus Bane! Speaking of Magnus Bane… Soon, I promise. ;D**

**I'll just say it now and get it over with: I'M SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME I KNOW THAT I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON!**

**So… I disappeared again. Oops. I don't really have an excuse this time: I'm just a major asshole. Sorry, guys. I'm undependable. If that's a word… I think it is… :{**

**Things have been happening though. A quick rap-up of the past few months: My dog has diabetes now, so I can't feed him pizza anymore:[ ; I took the mother fucking PARCC test thingy, and now I hate everything; I was in a writing contest-thing, so that happened; and then I completely forgot about my fanfic (s). :(**

**Whew. Now that that's over and done with…**

**I hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter. I, personally, thought that it was lacking a bit, but I just really needed to update because I felt horrible and I just… Things will get better. They always do, right? **

**I have recently been interviewed by the one and only KelpiesKorner, so that was awesome. I'll put the link in my BIO if you want to check it out. (I had so much fun doing it!) :D **

**So… I guess that's all I have for now… I'll update again really soon, though. I finally have time to sit down and finish planning this story out, and then everything will be good with the universe and all that jazz.**

**Stuff from the chapter:**

**_The Silence –Mayday Parade (love this song, so much!)_**

**And yes, there is a hidden****_ Lost _****reference in there somewhere. Tell me if you found it. ;D**

**TWB:**

**Twilight by Stephenie Meyer**

**Have you guys read this series yet? Because I used to be a hater, but now that I've read it… I take everything back. It's actually pretty decent, but I just might detest the movies. Just a little bit. **

**AND DID YOU GUYS HEAR?! They are casting the ****_Shadowhunters _****TV show right now, and Dom Sherwood is Jace and I just can't even…. It's going to be amazing! I'm so excited, and the amount of hope I have for this reboot of the TMI series is just…. Things are going to be awesome!**

**Okay, I'm done now. **

**Leave me a review if you want to tell me your thoughts, need to vent your anger to someone you've never met, you know, the usual stuff. ;) think of me as you therapist if you want... :D**

**Cassie Clare owns all of the important stuff; I own my pile of shit. :{ ****_(I can dream though…)_**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	20. Chapter 20

_Clary POV_

I'm nervous. Not for myself, or about anything that really has anything to do with _me_, but I'm nervous for the guys. I really hope they don't blow this to hell; they've worked so hard.

Now, don't get me wrong. I have complete and total faith in the guys. I just have known them for a long time, and this particular group of boys has more than one member who is prone to being a dipshit. And those members both live within ten feet of me.

And no, I'm not talking about Alec.

"What song are they doing?" Will –William Herondale, who Jem introduced to us briefly a couple of minutes ago— asks quietly.

Will is exceedingly handsome; even more so –dare I say it- than Jace. He has very dark, midnight-black hair, and the most stunning blue eyes I have ever seen. His eyes are richer and darker than even Alec's, and his are like the ocean. Will's eyes are more dark, almost brooding, but ever captivating. Izzy –I swear to god, I'm not shitting you- almost started drooling when he first walked through the door with Jem, and I wasn't the only one who noticed. Alec and Jace were both glaring at Will through the glass, and Robert had thrown an arm around her shoulders casually and pulled her to his side. Robert, though, at least had the decency to give the guy a chance before he immediately hated him. With Jace and Alec, on the other hand… not so much. Well, we'll see how they act after they're done performing.

Jem, sitting by his side with his eyes trained on Jace's form as he starts to sing, leans over to whisper, "I think it's that one by _Mayday Parade_. But, then again, I don't really know, Will." I get anxious and try to stay in my seat as I eavesdrop, but then I see Jem nod slightly in Jace's direction through the thick glass that separates us from the band. "I like it though; it suits his voice," he says, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.

The sound of the band is filling the relatively small room that we are crammed into, and everything sounds so much clearer than it does when we use Seb's recording-room in his garage. I'm starting to think that Seb's dad got ripped-off, if this soundboard has anything to say about it. But that really doesn't matter right now.

I already know that Jem likes the guys, he said so himself; Will, on the other hand, is a completely different story. I've never personally seen pictures of the guy, only heard his name from Jon in spare moments when he's ranting to himself about being famous. I didn't even know that Heronstairs Productions was a co-owned company, but now I guess I get the name. Will _Heron_dale, and Jem Car_stairs_. Now that I think about it, I really should've thought of that one on my own…

"They're very young, James," Will murmurs, giving nothing away in his tone. I clench my teeth to keep back form speaking up, because I know that that won't help much. But really, does he _have_ to make vague comments like that all the time? It's giving me a headache from unnecessary worry.

Jem chuckles under his breath and nudges Will with his shoulder, never taking his eyes off of the guys. "_We're_ very young, William. But when has age ever stopped anybody, huh?"

Will doesn't reply –which makes me scoot to the edge of my seat- and just shifts his eyes away from where they were trained on Jace to analyze Alec. "He looks familiar," he states, nodding slightly in Alec's direction.

Jem squints for a moment, and then makes a low noise of recognition in his throat. "Of course. I believe that he is a distant relative of Gideon and Gabriel. That's what Gab said, anyway, but I can't be sure though…" he trails off, glancing over his shoulder at Robert.

"You wouldn't happen to know a Gideon Lightwood, would you, Robert?" Jem asks, causing Robert to move his eyes form where they were trained on the guys' playing forms.

He looks surprised for a moment, but then says in a startled voice, "Yes, actually. My nephew."

My eyes widen in surprise, and I look quickly to Will to see his reaction, only to find that he hasn't even turned away from the glass. He is staring at Jace once more, but now his eyes are narrowed into slits and it appears as if he's trying to use his laser-vision to cut a hole in the Plexiglas. Y'know, if he actually had laser-vision. But even a god like Will Herondale –and yes, I'll admit that his body doesn't hurt to look at— can't have everything. Right? Oh god, I hope not. That would just make it that much harder to focus, and I really need to do that right about now-

Okay. I'm calm. Shut up. I'm fine. Back to the topic…

"That's what I thought. Small world, huh?" Jem states good-naturedly. Robert just nods, still appearing startled at the question, but Jem has already turned back to face the glass so he doesn't take any notice.

I sit still for a minute, trying to remember ever having met the Lightwood's relatives, but I come up with a big fat blank. Maybe they're very, very distant relatives? Or maybe I'm just really unobservant. One or the other is most likely the truth.

Everybody goes back to watching the guys play, but my mind wanders off further than it already has. I slump back against the couch, and the leather squeaks under my legs—embarrassingly loud, might I add. Nobody turns to look at me, though, and I breath a silent breath of relief and allow my posture to relax—I had gone ridged when I heard the squeak. _You're in the clear for now, Clary. For now_, I imagine the couch taunting me, but then I ignore the annoying voice that my mind has just come up with.

Back to the subject. Damn, I'm having problems focusing today. Maybe I have ADD… Probably not, though.

Relatives. Right.

That makes me think about Will Herondale. And Jace Herondale. That can't be that common of a last name, and I'm pretty positive that Jace doesn't have any living relatives. If he does, he's never mentioned them to me… Huh.

When Jace's parents died—were killed in a car-accident—he was assigned a social worker. Of course, Maryse and Robert were very close friends of his parents, so they immediately stepped up to take him in. I've heard this story more than once, so I know how things went down. After Jace had been 'transferred', if you will, to his new legal-guardians, Maryse and Robert had decided to move their whole family away—to have a new start, away from their dead friends. It was the best thing for Jace, really; having to live in the same town where his parents died would probably have not helped him get over their deaths any quicker.

Robert had gotten a job offer in New York earlier that year, so he decided to take it. They moved into the Institute, and then that's where I met my best-friend. Simple.

The one thing that I haven't ever thought to ask Jace, though, was if he had any other relatives. I guess I just assumed that he didn't, since Maryse and Robert adopted him directly after his parents' deaths. I mean, if he _had_ had other relatives—cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents—then why didn't one of them take Jace in? So that makes me think that he didn't really have any relatives. But if he actually did have living family, why in the _hell_ didn't they take him in? If that's true and he had living relatives when his parents died… Well, that's messed up.

I make a mental note to ask Jace about his family later, and try to focus on the guys' performance.

The song is almost over, and Jem looks like he's enjoying it a lot. Will, on the other hand… I really can't tell. He might be thinking about creating an army of cannibalistic ducks, and I wouldn't be able to know. His dark-blue eyes are emotionless as he watches Jace—who he has been staring at for a prolonged amount of time—and his face is hard as stone. He looks like someone carved him out of a granite slab, and his eyes are hard blue sapphires. He looks so much like Alec right now, it's almost scary. Maybe _they're_ related…?

Maybe Alec should be a Herondale, instead of Jace. Or maybe Will should be a Lightwood… Either way, it's still freaky. Like having an older—though only by a few years—Alec, who shows no emotion, is extremely intimidating, and is almost illegally attractive.

Like I said: Freaky.

Jace sings the last note of the song—which just so happens to be _The Silence_ by _Mayday Parade_, thank you very much—and then Jem stands up from his chair and applauds them. I get a small smile on my face as I meet Jace's anxious ones through the glass, and he sends me a wink along with a small smile in return. He looks relieved, and he should be—they just performed in front of people who could possibly make them more than five guys who started a band. They could get signed—hopefully—but I'm choosing to not think about that right now. No need to get my hopes up for nothing, right?

Though, judging by Jem's reaction, something good is going to come out of this for the guys. I can feel it; it's giving me good vibes.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Jem exclaims excitedly, turning to face Will. "Weren't they, Will? I told you they were awesome, didn't I?"

Will nods slightly, finally taking his eyes away from Jace and turning also to face Jem. His eyes, once hard and emotionless, soften slightly as he meets Jem's eyes, and I can't help but note the slight changing of his face. It shows fondness, a strange affection, towards Jem. Odd.

"They weren't as bad as I thought they'd be, I'll admit."

My jaw clenches at his words, but I bite my tongue and breathe deeply. There would be no point in me slapping the shit out of him right now, while he is still deciding whether or not he likes the guys. But I can wait.

_Just keep being an ass, Mr. Herondale. I'll make sure to hit you extra hard after you give my bestie a record deal,_ I think to myself, but then I feel guilty for even thinking it. I sound like a gold-digger. Gross.

Jem quirks an eyebrow at Will's words, and asks slowly, "And just how 'bad' did you think they'd be?" He looks curious, and a little bit amused.

Will shrugs, apparently not very interested in the subject as he plays with the drawstrings on his hoodie. _Ass_. "I expected something like 'prepubescent _New Found Glory_ wannabes, with a dash of emo-screamo mixed in there somewhere'. So this was a pleasant surprise," he tells Jem seriously, causing my mouth to just about fall open. I lock my jaw, though, and turn my eyes to Jem to gauge his reaction.

He just laughs and smiles fondly over at Will. "Of course you did." Then he turns to face the glass again, smiling at the five nervous faces he meets. "You guys can pack up your instruments, and then we'll meet you in a few minutes. We have some things to discuss," he tells them, before leading Will towards the door that leads back out into the hallway.

Before Jem leaves, though, he stops by my dad, and says, "Will and I are going to go over everything, and we'll meet you guys in the cafeteria." He pauses to look down the hallway through the now-open French-doors, and waves at someone. Footsteps shuffle along the carpeted floor, and I get curious as to who is coming.

A girl with blonde hair and brown eyes appears in the doorway, and she smiles at Jem and Will. "Hi, Jem," she says lightly. "Will." A nod at the tall, dark-haired man, and then she looks back to Jem expectantly.

He smiles kindly down at her and throws a thumb in our direction. "Would you mind showing these fine people to the cafeteria, Mo? Me and Will need to sort out some things before lunch."

'Mo' nods, and says, "I was on my way there, anyway," before turning to wave at us as Jem and Will escape out into the hallway. "So, you guys are The Fallen? I saw you playing on YouTube, but I thought there were only five of you…" she says, trailing off as the door that leads to the recording-booth opens and Alec walks out. Jon and Seb are behind him, their instrument cases in hand, and Jace and Jordan are the last ones to exit. Mo stares at them for a moment, before turning to Izzy—who is the one standing closest to the new girl.

"_That_ would be The Fallen, would it not?" she asks, and when Izzy nods she sighs to herself. "Of course they are." She waves us all to follow her, before she starts leading us back towards the elevators we took to get up here.

We all file out of the room, and Jace comes to walk next to me. He takes my hand in his, and I smile to myself as we pile into the elevator. If I was claustrophobic, I would be hyperventilating right about now. Thank god I'm not though, right?

When we reach our floor, we follow Mo down another hallway, and then into a large carpeted space that is lined with comfy-looking chairs and tables. Not very many people are there, but I don't know when lunchtime is for people who work here, so… Still, though, it's only like ten in the morning. So it's most likely not lunchtime just yet.

Mo leads us to an area that has a large, round table that probably sits at least twenty people at. As we near it, we walk by a table full of guys that look like they're in college, and Jace drops my hand quickly. I look up with a confused expression—which might look slightly hurt, but he might've not noticed that fact—but I realize what he's doing a second later.

He wraps his arms around my shoulders tightly and pulls me into his side protectively, glaring at the college-age guys sitting at the table we pass. I didn't even notice that they were staring at me, but now I do and I'm freaked out. And kind of pissed. My inner UFC fighter is screaming, '_What do you want, bitches?! I'll hammer-punch your throats before you can even scream 'Mommy'!_'

Whoa. Cool it down, Clary. Calm your tits.

Great, now I'm quoting Jace. What a _wonderful_ role-model you are, bestie! Not.

Jace glares at the table full of dudes, and I shrink into his side and lower my eyes to the ground as we walk past their table. I have a feeling that Jace stares them down until we're over to our table, but I can't be sure. It might just be a shallow hope, though. Sigh.

Mo smiles at us and gestures at the chairs surrounding the large table. "Just have a seat; Jem and Will should be down shortly." With that, she turns to leave.

But Alec speaks up before she gets two feet away from us. "Have we met before?"

I—along with everyone else—look over at him in surprise. Alec never speaks unless he's absolutely required to, and this is very unusual for him. When he notices all of the eyes on him, he blushes bright red and ducks his head to try and hide it.

"You just look really familiar," he mumbles.

Mo, though, acts as if she gets this question a lot. "I'm pretty sure that my mom is your History teacher," she tells him, smiling kindly as he nods to himself. _History teacher...? Oh! Mrs. Brown. Mo Brown, huh? Hmm…_

"O-oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry," he stutters, looking nervous. Jace chuckles beside me, and I elbow him to get him to shut up. No need to make Alec feel any more embarrassed than he already is. Dick move, bestie. Dick move.

"It's fine." Mo smiles at us all again, and then she is wandering off to the opposite side of the cafeteria and joining a small line that I hadn't noticed before. _Of course the CAFETERIA is going to have somewhere you can buy food, idiot!_

We all take our seats around the table, and Jace sits next to me, his arm still around my shoulders and our chairs so close together that our legs brush against each other. I fight the blush off of my cheeks, and then I immediately wonder what the hell is wrong with me today.

I never blush, or feel even remotely like blushing around Jace. Except when he makes really dirty innuendos, but that's not—okay, that's most of the time. Never mind.

Still, though. I shouldn't be reacting to every little thing that Jace does today. It's unnatural, and frankly unhealthy for my mental well-being.

I look around the table, and notice that everyone seems to be having their own private conversations except for me and Jace—Izzy and Maia; Jon, Jordan, and Seb; Dad and Robert. Alec is still blushing and trying to hide from everyone else, so he doesn't really count. I try to listen to all their conversations, but Izzy and Maia are sitting the closest to me, so I can only make out theirs.

"—and, oh my god! Will is so hot, I just can't even try to explain-," Izzy whispers excitedly, causing me to roll my eyes. Of course Izzy would be talking about how hot somebody is with her two brothers—both adopted and blood-related—sitting not even five feet away from her. And might I also add that her father is here, too?

Maia nods, sighs dramatically, and says, "Oh god, I know. I would totally jump that if I didn't have Jordan. Damn not being single anymore."

Izzy nods wistfully, but she doesn't look like she agrees with the last part. Why would she; Simon and her are soulmates!

I decide to just tune them out—least they annoy me any further—and turn to face Jace. Alec, who is sitting on the other side of Jace, is blushing deeper than before, and Jace is leaning towards him slightly. My interest is officially peeked, and I lean closer to Jace to listen in.

"Come _on_, man! She was hot! Just admit that you were hitting on her already," Jace whines, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. I frown and watch Alec's face as he shakes his head adamantly at Jace.

"I was _not,_ Jace. She just looked familiar, that's all! I swear." Alec looks like he's completely over talking about this—and just a little bit horrified at the thought of hitting on someone, but I decide to ignore that for the moment—and I have to agree with him on that one. I didn't get any feeling that Alec was hitting on Mo—who I assume they are talking about—and I'm pretty sure that I know what flirting and 'hitting' on somebody looks like; I'm constantly surrounded by hormonal teenage boys. And they don't think with they're first brains, so… But we're talking about Alec right now. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen Alec 'hit' on anybody. Ever. Huh.

Jace snorts. "_Please_! You totally wanted to hit that." I flicker my eyes up to his face, and hope that he can see my glare in his periphery as he looks at Alec. He's being very douche-y towards Alec today.

Alec just shakes his head again. "I did not; the thought never even crossed my mind. Now would you stop grilling me on this, please?" he asks, sounding tired and exasperated at the same time, but his voice is hushed and the blush still hasn't drained form his face. Poor Alec.

"Did you just say '_grilling_'?! Really, Alec? What are we, in the 90's?" Jace demands, sounding amused beyond belief. I pinch his thigh, and he looks down at me in surprise—and there's not even a sign of pain in his eyes, the ass!

Alec just huffs and rolls his eyes, his blush finally starting to fade. "Whatever."

Jace smirks at his success at riling up his adoptive-brother, and I glare at him and drive my elbow into his side for the second time today.

He looks down at me with an injured look in his eyes—though the amusement is clear in their depths—and asks, "What was that for? You're being awfully violent today; I might have to report abuse." Douche-canoe.

"You're being kind of an ass today, princess. Bad day?" I hiss, still glaring up at him. His eyes soften when they take in the anger in mine, and he sighs, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. After a moment, I lean into him and close my eyes with a sigh. I can't stay mad at him when he's sweet like this.

And it also might have something to do with this being the first time he's willingly showed this much affection this week. We decided to just kind of let our awkwardness be ignored for the moment—because the guys had to focus on practicing for Will and Jem, and they needed their lead-singer with his head in the game. And we have been avoiding any contact that's even remotely intimate—_not_ that there's anything intimate about Jace and I, just so we're clear—so things have been distanced between us for the past week. Yeah, _distanced_ would be the correct word to describe our relationship at the moment… Again, _not_ in a relationship here, people! Just friends. Hehe…

Moving on.

He pulls back after a moment and stares down into my eyes, amber swirling with deep emotions that I can't even begin to try to figure out. "Sorry, Clare."

I smile slightly at the name, and roll my eyes up at him. He smirks and opens his mouth to say something else, but footsteps sound on the floor coming towards our table. I look over, and see Will and Jem walking towards us. To my surprise though, Will seems to be in a better mood—like, he's smiling and doesn't look like he wants to kill anyone. Progress.

Or maybe Jem gave him drugs. Yeah, that sounds like the more probable reason. Speaking of drugs, aren't you supposed to share with your friends? And I'm probably considered right up there with Jem's besties by now, so…

Maybe not. Damn.

"Hey, guys. Sorry that took so long, but Will was cranky. He forgot to eat his Wheaties this morning," Jem tells us when they reach the table, Will automatically throwing himself down into one of the vacant seats and Jem gracefully lowering himself into his own.

Will rolls his eyes, but he is definitely in a better mood judging by the good-natured smirk that curls at the corner of his lip. "Well, _somebody_ called me at six in the morning to remind me that his new band-crush was performing for him today, so sorry. And you also dragged me out of my office when I was _trying_ to eat, just to come watch said band-crush play—so this is really all your fault if you think about it," he says, eyeing Jem fondly.

Jem just rolls his eyes good-naturedly, before appearing to get back on topic. "So, I guess that we have some things to discuss," he says, looking around the table at everyone—Jace and Jon most in particular. I guess that he notices the nervous look that enters everyone's eyes, because he chuckles a bit to himself and quickly amends, "Nothing bad, I assure you. The news is actually quite spectacular, and you guys could have quite an offer if all goes well today."

Everyone simultaneously relaxes around the table, and I blow out a slow breath through my nose. So things haven't gone to hell yet. That's good, right?

Jace squeezes my hand slightly as Jem jumps right into it, Will speaking up and adding things at the right moments. I can practically feel the hope radiating throughout our group, and I just know that things are going to be fine.

_Why did I ever doubt things anyway? God, sometimes I can be such a pessimist!_

* * *

**Things are getting exciting! Yay!**

**I have plans for one more chapter, and then there is going to most likely be a slight time jump—nothing too drastic, though. Like two or three months at tops. :D**

**Stuff from chapter:**

_**The Silence—Mayday Parade**_

**I haven't really been reading a lot this week, and all that I've been wanting to read are fanfictions, so this week's TWB is just going to be some fanfic recommendations. For TMI, of course! :D**

**TWB:**

_**Misery Loves Glamour—MaybeThere'sHope**_

**So, recently I've been into reading Malec fics. I don't know why I haven't read these type of fics yet, but I ship Malec so hard! Like, maybe more than Clace if I'm being honest. They're pretty equal though… Anyway, this one is so amazing, and the sequel is partially up on , and then the link to the rest of **_**All's Fair in Love and Glamour **_**(the sequel) is linked in her BIO. I just… this is one of my favorites. And it has lots of hot smexy times in it too. ;)**

**And yes, if you are wondering, 'Where the hell is Magnus the Magnificent?' I have plans for him to come in very soon. And then Alec will get his 'Bae' and everything will be perfect with the universe once again. **

**On another note, they have cast Clary for the **_**Shadowhunters **_**TV show! Kat McNamara has been selected, and I am so excited to see how she plays Clary. She's getting her hair dyed red, so she won't be a blonde, and I can't even explain how perfect this show is going to be. It's just giving me good vibes. :) They've also cast Sizzy, and I'm excited to see how the characters get interpreted by Emeraude Toubia (Izzy) and Alberto Rosende (Simon). They'll be great, I'm sure of it. And then there's Alec and Luke, too! I personally am really happy that they decided to open their windows for casting, and let somebody else try to portray Luke! It will be really awesome, and I am so excited for everything to happen. I'm just really excited. But really though, I think that Isaiah Mustafa will play an excellent Luke, because they cast him for his personality and his acting skills so I think that everything will work out fine. And can I just say how perfect Matthew Daddario is?! Like, he's the perfect Alec. All that he needs are some gorgeous blue contacts, and he is pretty much perfect. Everything is perfect. **

**I'm **_**way**_** too excited about this. Okay, I'll stop ranting now.**

**As always, Cassie Clare owns her stuff; I own mine.**

**Review and tell me your thoughts, please! :D**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	21. Chapter 21

_Jace POV_

It's three a.m.—and I have yet to go to sleep. Surprise, surprise.

There's just too much energy and excitement in my mind for something as simple as sleep. I feel like I could go run a 5k, and I'm pretty positive that I wouldn't even be tired after that. My mind is going into overdrive, and I'm not sure if there is a failsafe somewhere or not…

Maybe I'll just have to take a shit ton of Benadryl, and hope that it knocks me out for more than two hours.

It's been three days since we went to Heronstairs Headquarters, and I still can't get it through my head that things actually went well for us. It's unbelievable, and I'm pretty sure that I'm still in shock. Or maybe I'm just having a mental breakdown, I'm not going to confirm or deny anything yet.

'You've been signed.' Those words keep repeating themselves in my head, and I just can't believe it. The Fallen—once just a stupid idea that I had because I was bored after school—has actually been signed to a record label.

Of course, I'm making things seem a lot simpler than they are, but I'm just too pumped to give a shit.

_We've actually been signed, motherfuckers!_

Jem scheduled us a meeting next week, too. We're supposed to talk about writing our own music, and possible recording said music. It's all very exciting.

And now I kind of want to scream like a fangirl. Is that normal?

Of course it is… Back to the topic, Jace.

We had to sign a shit ton of paperwork on Monday, after we performed, and I just about puked from the nerves. It took two hours. Brutality.

I'm pretty sure the only people who weren't in shock were Mr. Morgenstern and Robert—the rest of us were all kind of in a daze. Robert even had to ask Alec and Seb if they were okay to drive us back to The Institute, because we were skipping school on Monday for obvious reasons. Because really, what would be the point in showing up for the last two classes after lunch? Exactly—there isn't one.

But back to how shocked all of us were—

I'm pretty sure that Jon threw up when he got home, from pure excitement and nothing else. Seb and Jordan were probably the calmest out of all of us, but they still looked like someone just offered to buy them custom sports cars, and I'm not sure that I looked any better. Though, I actually did try to school my features into those of 'cool, bro, very interesting'. I'm not positive that it worked, but…

Izzy and Maia were shocked, too. Just for a completely different, and kind of shitty, reason. When we were back in the car and on our way back to The Institute, Izzy immediately started complaining that we didn't 'have enough talent to get signed'. It made me mad, especially when I learned that she and Maia had a bet going on whether Jem would kick us out on our asses after hearing us perform for him or not, and only Clary only just barely was able to contain me in my seat. It wasn't by pure force, either; I would've bulldozed her small frame if she actually tried to hold me back from pummeling Izzy's face in.

But then Clary reminded me that manslaughter was illegal, and that I probably would regret it later, and that Izzy would most likely harm my perfect face with her death-stilettos—so I calmed my shit down, son!

And it might've also been because Clary was giving me puppy-dog eyes, and I can't resist them. I pull them off a lot better than she does, but I can't deny my fiery little ginger anything.

_And I mean ANYTHING,_ my second brain adds, but I choose to ignore it. No need to get all excited for nothing, huh? Bummer.

Alec was kind of in a daze when he drove us home, and I was going to question him about earlier that day—when he and Izzy were fighting in the car—but I forgot. Again.

And now that's what I'm going to do, to keep my mind from internally combusting from excitement.

I swing my legs over the edge of my bed and rub my eyes, yawning as I get up to go to the door. My body is really tired, exhausted even, but my brain has other ideas. And my brain needs a distraction right now. Alec's room, here we come!

I pad quietly across my room and open my door that leads out into the hallway, listening for noises or footsteps that signal that Robert or Maryse are up. Everything is silent except for the soft footfalls that I'm making, so I continue on my journey.

I feel like a mother-fucking ninja right now. _Secret agent man, secret agent man…_

Well, I guess if I was a ninja it would be 'Secret _Asian_ man', but you get the point.

That was kind of racist…

Moving on.

When I reach Alec's room, his door is shut. He's probably the only one in our entire family that doesn't close his door at nighttime, so something's up.

I narrow my eyes and try the handle. It's locked. Of course it is. Great.

I sigh and back away from the door, stepping only on the edges of the hallway in case the floor creaks. If Maryse or Robert decided to wake up right now, I don't know how I would explain myself. It probably wouldn't be that bad, but I just really don't feel like making up some odd situation right now. Too much work.

I creep down the hallway and make it into the kitchen without waking anybody up. So far, so good. I find a toothpick and start walking back to Alec's room, but then I hear a noise.

It doesn't sound like Robert or Maryse, and Izzy is already asleep and she sleeps like the dead, so it can only be one thing: Alec.

Well, it could also be a murderer trying to break into our apartment, but I have decided that I'll leave that conclusion on the backburner for the foreseeable future. Last time I thought that a burglar was breaking into our house, I almost bludgeoned Clare with a bat. I still feel kind of guilty about that, and I shoved said Death Bat into the back of my closet. But Clary said that we were cool, so I have decided to also let that sit on the backburner. For now.

When I am standing in front of Alec's door again, I lean my ear against it to listen in. The noise that I heard came from inside his room. I furrow my brows and press my ear flush against the polished wood.

Grunting. I hear grunting. That was the noise I heard. Oh, my god.

My head flies back from the door, and I listen in horror as the grunting continues. The fuck-? _Alec_? What the hell-?!

_Okay_, I tell myself. _There could be more than one reason that he's grunting._ God, I hope so.

Number one: He could be having a nightmare.

I nod. That's a plausible explanation.

Number two: A burglar could _actually_ be breaking into our apartment, and just decided to go through Alec's room. And he also locked the door so that he could kill Alec off quietly.

I lean in to listen again. Only one person is breathing, and I'm pretty sure it's Alec. So, not likely the reason for all of the noise, but I'll keep it in mind.

And number three: Alec could be… He could be… having some '_alone time'_.

I immediately shudder and try to expel the images that thought brought to my mind. Nope. Alec's not doing _that_. Nope, I refuse to believe it.

And for god's sake, it's Alec! He tries to not even curse in public! Because apparently 'it's a bad example for the youth of our nation'. Right.

This is Alec we're talking about; never dated, never smoked, never drank. _Alec_.

That is not a possible explanation, and I refuse to believe otherwise. I mean… _gross._

Just as I think that last thought, I hear, "_Ow, fuck_!" mumbled from the other side of the door.

My eyes widen and I swallow against the many expletives that want to come out of my mouth. _Double gross_.

I turn around and start inching my way back to my room, thinking that it would be best for everyone if I just pretended like this never happened, but then I hear Alec's quiet growl from inside of his room, "_Get off of me_!"

I turn around to face the door, biting my lip. So, maybe he's not doing what I thought he was; maybe there really is a murderer trying to break into our apartment. Hopefully. I would take a murderer over the other option any day… I shudder again before I walk slowly back over to the door.

It's quiet inside now, all except for a few thumps here and there, so I make a decision—I'm going to go see what Alec is doing. And if I mentally scar myself for eternity, then so be it.

Please, Alec—please, _God_—don't be doing what I think you're doing. I'll never be able to un-see that.

I stick the toothpick in the lock and start jiggling it around as I move the mechanism. All of the doors on our bedrooms have these really cheap locks on them, so all that you have to do is move the bearings around. And then it—

_Click._

—Unlocks the doors.

I slowly push Alec's door open, and look inside of his room. All of the lights are off, and the only illumination is from the open window that is next to his bed. A dark figure is in front of said window, and the look like they're caught on the frame of it. The dark figure is struggling, and I immediately think, '_Burglar_'.

God, I'm paranoid.

I silently creep into the room and shut the door behind me equally as silent—if it is a murderer, or a burglar, I don't want to alert him that I'm here. He might have a gun. But I have a toothpick.

Who do you think will win this battle, huh?

Okay, so probably not me, but—

"_Shit,_" the dark figure mutters, pulling on something as he struggles to get through the window.

My body goes slack with relief—I know that voice. Alec. I sigh and lean over to flip the light-switch that's by the door, and then I slump against the wall. _See? I knew there weren't any murderers or anything… hehe…_

Alec, who I can see clearly now that the light is on, freezes and turns around to face me. Panic shines in his eyes for a moment, but when he sees that it's just me in his room, he relaxes and turns back to doing whatever it is that he's doing.

"What are you doing here, Jace?" he asks quietly, pulling on something that's stuck on the window again.

I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes at whatever he's pulling at. It looks like his ugly ass sweater got stuck on the outside of the window. _I wonder how it got there…_

"Oh, you know… I was just in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd drop by…" Sarcasm.

Alec turns to glare at me, but then turns back to tugging on his sweater. A small ripping sound sounds through the room, and then Alec is standing up straight and facing me. "Funny. You do know that it's almost four o'clock in the morning, right?"

I nod, and say, "And do you know how your sweater got stuck on the window, or would you like me to become clairvoyant and tell you?"

He sighs and slumps on his bed, but a small flush creeps up onto his cheeks. "I—I was leaning out of the window—getting fresh air, you know?—and my shirt got stuck on a loose nail."

He seems nervous. _Hmm…_

I nod again, humoring him. "Sure," I drawl out. "But why were you leaning out the window at three,"—I pause and glance at his phone, which sits right next to him on the bed—"four in the morning, Alec?"

He swallows and avoids my eyes, biting his bottom lip. Amusement swells up inside of me, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from chuckling. _Gottcha._

"I—It was hot in here. It still is, and I couldn't sleep."

My eyes narrow into slits and I push up from the wall, crossing the room to stand in front of the window. I look out the window, and notice said 'loose nail' sticking out of the window's frame. Except, the only problem is that the nail is almost a foot below the window's opening. There's absolutely no way that Alec got caught on that nail just by leaning out of it. He would've had to be climbing _in_ through the window to get caught on that nail.

I look around the nail, and then I find my answer. His and Izzy's rooms are right next to each other, and Alec's is the only one that doesn't have a balcony. Izzy's has a fire escape, though… and hers is right next to his window.

_Bingo._

"Sure, sure. And why were you on Izzy's fire escape, hmm?" I nod out of the window, causing a darker blush to rise on his cheeks. He's such a shit liar.

"I—I wasn't," he mumbles, twirling a loose thread on his sleeve. I bite my lip hard, keeping in the chuckle that wants to escape. He's just too much fun to tease. Maybe not as much fun as Clare, but still pretty fun.

"Then why are you still wearing your clothes, Alec? If you were here all night, then you would be in you pajamas by now. I'll ask again: Where'd you go?" I ask, deciding that I've let this drag out long enough.

He is silent for a moment, avoiding my gaze and ducking his head down so that his dark hair obscures my view of him, but then he says, "None of your business," in the most uncertain voice ever.

I can't help it this time—I chuckle. Then I mock-whine, "Just tell me, dude! I won't tell Robert or anything. Where did you go?"

He just shakes his head and pulls more on his sweater's thread. It comes loose more than it already was and another hole appears. He's really nervous. And that's when I get clued into what's going on here.

Oh, my god. He was with a girl.

I grin and lean over to chuck him lightly on the shoulder. "So, was she hot?"

At this, his head snaps up and he looks at me in horror. _I knew it._ "W—what are you talking about? I've been here all night!" he tells me, but his excuse isn't as certain as he probably means it to be.

I chuckle and gesture for him to go on, to give all the dirty details. "You liar." I look closer at his face, and then notice something peeking out of his collar. Is that a—No. It is. Holy shit! "My, my, Alec. How naughty have you been?" I demand, amused.

He flushes again and looks around his room for an escape. I notice him eyeing the door, and go to dash in front of it. "Oh, no you don't, mister. Tell me. Now. I'm your brother! You have to tell me about all of your conquests!"

His eyes widen and he shakes his head adamantly at me, standing up from the bed and moving to stand in front of the window. "I have no conquests, Jace. I don't even know what you're talking about."

I roll my eyes. "The big-ass hickey on your neck, man! You totally were with a girl just now!_ Tell me,"_ I drag out the last part, giving him puppy-dog eyes. I even poke out my lower lip for further effect. He _has_ to cave at some point; might as well bring out the big guns sooner than later. My curiosity is killing me, here!

Alec just shakes his head, closes the still-open window, and then covers his face with his hands. "Keep your voice down—you're gonna wake mom and dad up," he mumbles through his fingers.

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Whatever."

Maybe I should just pry it out of him in the morning. When he lowers his hands, I see that he looks exhausted, and I stifle a yawn into my fist. Yeah, definitely in the morning.

"I'm tired now. Leave." Alec mumbles, taking his shoes off and flopping onto his bed with his clothes from the day before still on.

I have one more question before I leave, though. "Did you have fun, at least?"

He stills for a moment, and then nods into his head into his pillow.

I smile slightly to myself, and then leave, closing his door softly behind me and turning his light off.

_The little asshole was with a girl,_ I think as I make my way back to my room._ Little baby Alec is growing up. _

Tear.

* * *

Four days later, we are pulling into the Heronstairs Headquarters parking-lot once again. The atmosphere of the car—Alec's—isn't near as tense as it was last Monday. Everyone seems to be more at ease this morning, the nerves aren't really present. It might be because we know now that Jem and Will like us, and I definitely think that that is part of it. But it could also be because we don't have the pressure of an audience weighing down on us.

Maryse forced Izzy to go to school—ha, loser!—because she had no reason to come with us today. She just barely slid by last week when we came, and that was because she pulled the whole 'moral-support' card. Thankfully, Maryse isn't very gullible, and put her foot down when Izzy tried to come with us instead of going to school. It was very amusing.

Maia had to go to school, too—apparently she has a really important semi-final this morning—so it's only the five of us who are actually in the band, Clary, and Mr. Morgenstern. We tried to convince him—Mr. M.—that he didn't need to come with us today, that we were just going to talk about writing our own songs and getting our name out there, but he insisted that we need to be 'supervised by an adult'.

But I'm pretty sure that he just wants to hang out with Will and Jem, and see if they know any rock-stars. They most likely do, so I won't be surprised if Mr. M. gets the details out of one of them. He's very persuasive.

After parking the car and meeting up with the rest of our group, the ones that came in separate vehicles—Seb, Jordan, and Mr. M.—we make our way into the looming building for the second time. Everything is exactly the same as the last time we were here, so modern and _expensive_-looking. I look around myself in wonder as we walk up to the large secretary's desk. Mr. M. opens his mouth to tell the girl sitting there what we're here for, but he never gets the chance to speak.

"Hello, all! I have a conference room all ready to go, so you can just follow me and then we'll get started," a voice says, causing all of us to spin around and face the hallway that leads to the elevators.

Jem stands about ten feet away from us, with a smile on his face and a formal suit neatly tucked around his frame. He waves us all over and, with one more glance back at us, starts toward the elevators.

We all follow behind him, and I feel a small hand lace fingers with mine.

I don't even have to glance down to know whose hand the fingers belong to, but I do anyway. Clary smiles up at me and gives my hand a squeeze, and I grin before wrestling my hand out of her grip. She stares up at me for a moment, the smallest hint of hurt in her eyes that no one else would be able to see. But then I throw my arm around her shoulder and bring her to my side tightly, and she relaxes against me.

Did she really think that I wouldn't want to hold her hand? Really? God, it's like she thinks it's possible to be within five feet of her and _not _want to touch her. Ridiculous! I just needed more contact than handholding was giving me. Way to make me feel like an asshole, Clare.

She leans into my side, and when we're in the crowded elevator she has to stand right in front of me so that we can fit everyone in the moving metal box. Not that I'm complaining, though…

Clary sighs slightly and leans back slightly, and I wrap my arms around her waist and bring her back into my chest. I rest my chin on top of her head and chuckle when she playfully elbows me in the stomach.

"You know you love it, Clare," I whisper wickedly, causing her to elbow me harder. I just squeeze her harder against me, and she eventually gives in and relaxes into my chest.

I look up suddenly, feeling eyes burning into the top of my head, and meet Jon's glare. I furrow my brows, before lifting one in question. _What's his problem?_

He just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, leaving my completely confused. I don't think I did anything to him recently… Huh.

The elevator's doors open before I can think too much more about it, though, and then we are following after Jem as he leads us down a maze of hallways. I grab Clary's hand again as we walk, and she shoots me a grin before turning back to face the direction that we're walking in.

When Jem finally stops walking and our group halts along with him, we are standing in front of a set of double-doors that are propped open by foldaway chairs. Through the open doorway I can see a huge table surrounded by chairs, and a pair of boots connected to legs propped up on the edge of the table, but I can't really make out who the legs belong to from where I'm standing.

"Okay, guys. So, what we're going to be doing today is just basically talking," Jem says, drawing my eyes away from the mystery boots and over to him. "We'll discuss a whole bunch of boring stuff—writing, recording, basic production, and other things like that—but we're really focused on getting your guys' point of view on all of this. You know, the type of music you guys would like to play, the genre, and all that." He pauses and smiles at us, showing a boyish dimple in one cheek that makes him look around our age. Who knows, he probably is. "So you can just go on in and take a seat—Will is already in there, it looks like," he peaks over his shoulder into the room and nods to himself, "so he'll keep you company while I go collect the rest of the team from the break-room. They're probably eating all of the donuts…" he mumbles the last part to himself, before he takes off down another hallway and disappears out of our sight.

It is silent for a moment, before, "Are you guys coming in, or are you just going to lurk in the hallway for the rest of the morning?" Will Herondale—the man that shares last names with me, but looks more like Alec than anything.

_Wonderful_, I think as I roll my eyes.

His, albeit rude, interruption seems to snap everyone out of a daze, though, and we all start shuffling into the conference-room. We don't have our instruments with us today, because Jem said that we wouldn't need them, so at least we don't look like we're about to move in this time. Kind of.

I take a seat next to Clary, and right across from Will. Alec sits on my other side, but I just stare at the man across from me as everybody settles down in their seats.

He can't be related to me. It's not possible—I don't have any living family members. I mean, when my parents died, I did, but they all lived in England or some whit like that. And Robert and Maryse were my rightful godparents, so it was a no-brainer—I went to live with them. But I've never met any of my family members that lived in England, because apparently my dad had a fallout of some sort with his mother when he married my mom… And they just didn't talk to each other again, or something.

I remember some people at the funeral—my parents'—but I didn't recognize them, so I didn't think anything of it. And I wasn't really in the best frame of mind at that time; I was in a kind of shell-shocked daze for about a week after hearing the news. It was a dark time for me.

But then I met my little ginger, so I'm over it now. Wow, that makes me sound like an asshole…

Cold, bro, cold.

Footsteps sound down the hallway outside of the room, and I am snapped out of my thoughts as several people appear in the doorway and start filing in. Jem is among them, and he carries a huge box of donuts with him. He sets the box down on the table before taking the seat next to Will, who still has his feet propped up on the table and is typing away on his phone.

"We should get started," Jem says, before giving Will a fond reprimanding look. "Get your shoes off of the table, please and thank you."

Will glances up from his phone to give Jem an eye-roll. "And why, dear James, would I do that? I'm comfy," he says, wiggling his feet to prove just how 'comfy' he is.

Jem just grabs one of the toes of his boots and pulls it aside, revealing the center of the table—right where he sat the box of donuts. "I brought donuts for everybody, so you should sit up so that you can have some. But you can always go without, I guess…" he trails off teasingly.

Will immediately pulls his feet off the table and scoots his chair in, pulling the box of donuts across the table towards him and taking out one as soon as he gets the lid open. "I'd rather not, thanks," he tells Jem through a mouthful of donut.

Jem just rolls his eyes before facing the rest of us, pushing the box away from Will and towards the rest of us. "I brought enough for everybody. But we should really get this show on the road, here. So…"

I sit back in my chair and still myself for a long-ass meeting. I'm just getting that kind of vibe from Jem right now…

_But at least there are donuts, right?_

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**So, I lied about this being the last chapter before the time-jump. There will be one more, and then the time-jump. This chapter just turned out to be a lot longer than I had anticipated, that's all. :D**

**And I'm sorry about how late this update is, but I had to finish up school. What can you do? :)**

**TWB:**

_**The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer Trilogy—Michelle Hodkin**_

**Just one thing about this series: I love Noah! **

**Okay, moving on. **

**For the Shadowhunters TV show, they have cast three more-?—characters. There's Valentine and Jocelyn, who I think will be played flawlessly by the actors that have been cast. And then there's Magnus….. WE HAVE MAGNUS MOTHER-FUCKING BANE, GUYS! And I personally think that Harry Shrum, Jr. will be perfect. I mean, he's goddamned **_**Other Asian**_** from Glee! He'll be perfect, and when I found out that he was playing Magnus I just about died from fangirling too hard. **

**I'm pretty sure that I mentally scarred my sister. She had to hit me with my book to shut me up, and then I slapped her for mistreating my book! It was a nightmare. ;)**

**And thank you to all of you wonderful people who have reviewed, favorited, and/or followed my story! I've been trying to PM everyone who reviews, but sometimes some of you just slip through the cracks. I'm trying, though. **

**Cassie Clare owns TMI—I'm pretty sure we all know that by now.**

**I guess that's it… Okay, bye!**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	22. Chapter 22

_**This Chapter is a MONSTER. You have been warned…**_

* * *

_Clary POV_

"—And all that you guys have to do is basically keep doing what you were doing before you ever met me," Jem says, clasping his hands in front of him. "You'll just have to perform at more gigs, and competitions, and The Fallen's name will soon be all over the tabloids. It'll be great, and we can work on your music production in the meantime, when you guys aren't at gigs."

I discretely look around me, taking in everyone's attentive expression and alert eyes. I can't be the only one who is about to die from boredom here. Nobody can actually be _this_ interested in listening to Jem talk about the same thing for two hours; it's not physically possible!

Or maybe that's just my inner tantrum-prone ten-year-old. Yeah, that's the more likely explanation. We'll go with that.

Jordan, who has been relatively quiet all morning, raises his hand—like a second-grader. "Is that all we have to do? We just have to keep performing at Pandemonium, and then we'll instantly become famous? That sounds kind of sketchy, dude—no offense," he tells Jem, eyeing him skeptically.

Jem just chuckles and smiles at him in assurance. "Well, you boys won't become 'instantly famous', as you put it. But with performing your name will get out in the world, it will become knowledge of the public, and _that_ will help substantially when you have some music recorded." He pauses and glances at Will next to him, who gives him a pointed stare. Then Jem looks back at the rest of us. "That—the music recording and such—is a completely different note. We would like to see if you guys can write your own music, and if you're any good at it."

I meet Jace's eyes, and he shoots me a cocky grin. My eyes narrow. The little shit isn't even worried, nor is he bored; he's probably finding this amusing.

My dad nods to himself in my periphery. "If I may—Jon actually has a whole book full of songs. I've seen it, under his mattress," he says, glancing unabashedly in Jon's direction. Jem and Will both turn in Jon's direction with interested gazes.

Jon pales and opens his mouth in protest. "N-no, I don't. And even if I did," he turns on my dad with a steely glare, "it would be none of your business, _Father_. That book is private—metaphorically speaking, of course." He adds the last part quietly, seeming to realize his mistake in giving himself away.

Dad just raises an eyebrow over at him from across the table. "If it's so private, then you should really find a better hiding spot. I mean, for god's sake, Jonathan! You hid it with your por—," he starts to exclaim, amusement in his voice at his son's embarrassment, but Jon cuts him off.

"Shut up, Dad! Oh my God," Jon mumbles, ducking down in his seat and hiding his face.

Jace's body vibrates with laughter in the seat next to me, and I elbow him forcefully to get him to shut up. He shoots me a faux wounded look, but I just ignore him and look back over at Jon.

My poor brother looks like he wants to kill himself—if his embarrassment doesn't off him first. I shoot a glare, much like my brother, at my dad—in which return he gives me a _'What did I do?'_ look. I roll my eyes and turn back to face Jem and Will, not even giving him the satisfaction of a proper response.

Jem leans forward, looking Jon straight in the eye and asking kindly, "So, do you _actually_ have a book, or…?"

Jon sends another halfhearted glare at our father, his eyes meet mine long enough for me to send him an encouraging smile, he inhales deeply, and then meets Jem's eyes once more. "Yeah, but it's kind of private…" he says quietly, ducking his head down so that his face obscured by his light hair.

Jem looks at Will, who hasn't shown very much interest in anything but the big-ass box of donuts in the center of the table. Everyone had one earlier, and Will had two, but Jem cut him off when he went for more. Apparently the last time Will had donuts, he ate the entire box by himself, and had to go to the hospital after he threw up and passed out for two days. Jem said it had something to do with a sugar-crash and that it didn't help that Will never did handle sugar very well.

So now Will has been pouting and staring at the box of donuts for the past hour and a half—and I'm pretty sure that there is only one or two left in the box. It's almost scary how much he resembles Jace at this moment, if you don't count the color of his hair and his eyes. But his face and his features are almost identical to Jace—they have the same full lower lip, the same high cheekbones, the same lean muscular cut of their bodies… They could be related; and for all I know, they are.

That reminds me—I have to ask Jace about his family later. I keep forgetting, and this is getting too creepy to ignore anymore.

"Do you think that we could look at your songs? Maybe just the ones that aren't so private…?" Will asks, finally taking his eyes off the donut box and turning to face Jon.

Jon hesitates, swallows thickly, before nodding. "I guess, but they're not really good. Like, I'm pretty positive that they suck, just to tell you the truth."

Jem shakes his head and sits forward, staring seriously into Jon's eyes. "I bet they're great. You might even have a top ten hit written somewhere, who knows," he says, smiling slightly.

Jon just nods and sinks back in his seat.

I watch him intently as Jem continues to talk about more boring shit, taking in the slight flush on his cheeks and the nervous bite he has on his lower lip. A blind man would be able to tell that he's uncomfortable about sharing his songs. I didn't even know he wrote songs—hell, I didn't even know he could write, period! He usually has to come to me for help for his English homework because Mom won't let him play sports or anything after school if he fails. But I guess that song-writing isn't as hard as writing a five-thousand word research paper on the reproduction of the common platypus…

And yes, Jonathan, my lovely perverted older brother, did write an essay about platypi having sex. It was disgusting, and I caught him watching animal sex videos on YouTube, but he got an A— the little bastard got a goddamned _A _for writing about how billed animals get it on. _So_ not fair.

I am brought out of my thoughts by Will sitting up straight from where he was slouched in his seat. "Should we introduce them to some of the people they'll be working with? I think it would be better if they met with the rest of the guys. I even think Gideon's here today—but god help him if he brought that asshole of a brother with him," he says to Jem, muttering the last part under his breath along with a bunch of other expletives.

Maybe it's just me, but I think that Will doesn't like Gideon's—the lightwoods apparent cousin, whom of which I'd never heard of before last week—brother very much. I'm just getting that kind of vibe.

Jem nods his assent, and then stands from his seat. "That's a pretty good idea, actually. And I'm sure that you're all bored half to death from my talking; I know I am." He offers us all a smile, and then everybody starts to stand up along with him.

I stand up, too, and watch without interest as the small crowd of nameless faces that came in with Jem earlier file out of the room one after another. They really didn't say anything during the meeting; all they did was take notes and eat donuts. Very useful they are.

Jace stands up at the exact same time as Will, and then they just stare each other down for a while as Alec and my dad start following behind Jem out of the room. I look back and forth between them, completely freaked out by the almost identical looks of apprehension of their faces, until they both just nod at each other slightly and turn towards the door.

I follow behind Jace, thinking, _What the hell…?_

* * *

Jem leads us to a recording studio, much like the one we were in last week. It's a little bit bigger, though, and has full couches lining the walls in the room with the soundboard in it instead of plush benches. It's not empty, either; in fact, there's a band playing in the sound-booth as we walk in.

But the guy who's sitting in front of the soundboard doesn't appear to be actually recording anything or doing anything important, so Jem just tells us to go on in. He takes the empty seat next to the soundboard guy, and then starts conversing with him quietly, looking at the band playing through the large Plexiglas window in front of the board. I take a seat on one of the couches next to Jace and, finding the barely-comprehensible conversation between Jem and the sound-guy uninteresting, look through the window at the band that's currently playing.

There are three guys in the booth: one with blond hair and green eyes, playing the guitar and head-bobbing along to the beat that sounds faintly through a set of speakers in the room I'm standing in; a guy with white hair—lighter than Jon's light-blond—and black eyes, beating on a drum-set and grinning manically; and then the most interesting-looking one—a young guy with bright peridot-colored eyes and stark black hair, singing melodiously into a mic, covered head-to-toe in various articles of sparkling clothing.

I tilt my head to the side and watch as the last guy—the one with the intriguing eyes and the sparkly clothes—blares out lyrics into his mic. He is grinning joyously, and looks like he's having the time of his life. He's also very attractive—you know, if you're into that sort of '_glitter me_ _gorgeous_' type of thing.

But I much more prefer gold eyes and totally lickable abs…

I never said that. Shut the fuck up.

I strain to hear the music that's coming out of the sound system, and after a moment I recognize the song. _The Haunting_ by _Set It Off_—except that the singer-guy's voice is more pop-y than the original song. It's good, though; and a faint music track is playing in the background, just some simple piano and other instruments that I'm guessing the guys playing don't actually play. It works for them, I'll admit.

They're really good. I'm kind of digging this song, actually. Kind of creepy, with just a hint of _Fall Out Boy-_ness_. _Perfection.

"Have they covered _Ghost Town_ yet?" Jem asks, drawing my eyes away from the band and over to where he sits. He is leaning in towards the sound-guy with an interested expression on his face, his eyes flickering back and forth form the guy's green eyes to the band playing through the window.

"Not yet, but I think they were going to do that one next. They're just practicing today, though; they're scheduled to record tomorrow, so they're just messing around today. I don't think they've even played one of their own songs yet. Mags is acting kind of douche-y, too. I think he's on his—," sound-guy says, rolling his eyes dramatically. He runs a hand through his hair—which just so happens to be a sandy-blond color—and adjusts a dial on the board, turning up the volume on the speakers so the song sounds clearly through the room and I don't have to strain my ears anymore.

Jem cuts him off before he can continue his downward-spiraling speech about 'Mags'' PMS. Thank you, Jem. "Okay, that's quite enough, Gideon. He's probably just had a bad morning, and he'll be fine after they're done playing. He looks like he's in a better mood right now, anyway." Jem nods at the singer through the glass—who is apparently named 'Mags'. Interesting.

'Gideon'—soundboard-guy, and the mystery cousin of the Lightwoods—just rolls his eyes and sits back in his leather chair, a good-humored smile on his lips.

Jem squints at the three figures through the window. "Is _Ghost Town_ the last song they're going to play? Because I have some people I'd like to introduce you to—though you already know some of them, I think—and they can come meet them, too."

Gideon nods. "Yeah, I think they'll be done soon. Ragnor just really wanted to play that one, and I told him that they could do it last. Apparently he made a bet with Mags or something, and now _Maggy_ has to sing like the queen we all know he is. It's gonna be hilarious," he says, chuckling at the last part.

Jem smiles, before asking, "Is your brother here today? I just want to know so that I can't contain William before he goes on a killing spree."

Gideon grimaces, glances back behind him at where Will is leaning against the doorframe, and nods slightly at Jem.

Jem sighs, and I hear Will mutter, "Shit."

"Behave, William," Jem tells him kindly, not even turning around to look at him. I glance over at Will, just in time to catch his epic eye-roll. He looks even more like Jace.

I look on my other side at Jace's face, but his eyes are trained on the sound-booth through the massive window. He has a slight smile on his face and is nodding faintly along to the beat of the drums. He looks entranced almost, a dreamy look in his eyes as he listens to the band.

I almost ask what he's thinking about, but I don't want to disturb him; he looks really peaceful, and I like it when he's at peace. He's been so stressed these past few months, and things between us have most likely not help ease his mind at all. I'm almost afraid he'll start going grey, but then I know that if I bring it up he'll just spout off something about 'superior genes' along with a smartass remark. It's not even worth the breath it will waste.

But then the song comes to an end, and his eyes become alert again. I am still staring at him, and he looks over at me as if he can sense my gaze, sending me a cocky grin and a wink. I narrow my eyes at him, fighting off the damned blush that tries to creep up onto my cheeks because _damn_ if that sinful wink isn't attractive. And his lips are so inviting, and soft, and I want to kiss him again, like I did in the alley…

He will be my undoing.

Or maybe I've already been undone…

Gideon's voice brings my attention back to the front of the room. "Alright, guys. You'll be done after this last song, I think. And you have an audience, if you haven't noticed yet. I don't actually know who these guys are," he pauses to glance behind him, but does a double take when his eyes meet Alec's, and Alec sends him a shy smile. Gideon just nods at him briefly, before turning back to face the window. "Well, I guess that I do know who these guys are. My baby cousin's in a band now, so don't screw up. These newbies might pick up on what you're doing wrong, and you wouldn't want them showing you up, would you?" he chuckles.

The singer rolls his eyes from the other side of the glass and waves mockingly at the glass—though I highly doubt he can actually see anybody beyond Gideon, because it's almost pitch-black back where we're sitting. The only light is coming from within the sound-booth and from the various buttons and blinking lights on the sound-board at the front of the room. We probably look like shadow lurkers from where the singer stands.

"Hello, Gideon's baby cousin! And friends, it looks like! Enjoy!" he says sarcastically, blowing a kiss dramatically at us and batting his mascara-coated lashes.

It might just be me, but I'm starting to understand what Gideon meant earlier when he said something about Mags being a 'queen'. But the singer might not even be Mags—

We all chuckle quietly, and I look over at Alec, who is blushing slightly and ducking to hide his eyes in his dark bangs—probably embarrassed from all the attention he's getting. I smile slightly—he's the definition of a wallflower—before turning back to the window.

"Don't be mean, Magnus. We don't want you scaring them off before I even have the chance to listen to them play—," Gideon says, giving me proof that the singer's name is, in fact, Magnus.

'_Mags' must just be a nickname… Hmm… He really is a queen…_

"You know what? Why don't you guys just play so that these poor guys can get out of here? They've had to endure your horrid wailing long enough," Gideon continues, but his insulting words are toned down by the teasing tone of voice that he uses and the plain '_you guys know I love you'_.

The singer—Magnus—just nods, and after getting the 'READY' signal from the guitarist and the drummer, he nods to Gideon—who presses a button on the board and then sits back in his chair.

The guitarist starts picking away, and after a moment prerecorded music sounds through the speakers. A few moments later the drummer starts… well, drumming, and then Magnus is soon joining in as well.

I can tell just be the beat and the more modern sound of the prerecorded track that this song is more pop-y than the last song they played. It has some weird whistling in the background, and I can't help but think that this song would be really good to be played at a club—like Pandemonium. It just has that kind of seductive beat…

Wow, I sound like I know my shit! I could be a music… reviewer… person…

Maybe not. Dammit—dreams crushed.

I normally wouldn't like this kind of music, but… it's actually kind of catchy. I like this… and it sounds familiar from somewhere…

I lean over towards Seb, thinking that he would know what this song is called. If anybody listens to mainstream shit in their free-time, it would be my brother's best friend.

"Seb!" I whisper to get his attention. When he looks over and cocks an eyebrow at me, I ask, "What's this song called?"

He just shrugs, and says, "Why would I know? I don't listen to this kind of music. I like what you guys do…"

I roll my eyes and slump back in my seat, disappointed. This is going to drive me crazy all day until I find out what it's called, and who it's by—

"It's called _Ghost Town_, by Adam Lambert," Alec mumbles to me, staring at the window and only leaning across Jace slightly to talk to me.

I look over at him in surprise—I wouldn't have thought Alec of a closet Adam Lambert fan. I nod, but he's still facing forward, so I doubt that he notices. I decide to let him be, but Jace is too big of a shit to let something like that go.

"You listen to Adam Lambert?! Since when, Alec?" he demands, whispering and looking over at Alec in surprise.

Alec finally looks away from the window at this, and he flushes deeply and ducks his head down, but doesn't say anything.

Jace sniggers and says wickedly, "First you're sneaking off at three in the morning to go see girls, and now you're listening to Adam Lambert. My, my, how corrupted you've become, Alexander!"

My eyes widen and I look over at Alec again in astonishment. I didn't know he snuck out to meet a girl—Jace didn't even mention it to me! That asshole!

You'd think one's best-friend would mention something as juicy as that. I glare at Jace briefly, feeling slightly left out. He should've told me this!

_But he doesn't have to tell me everything_, I remind myself_. He's almost a grown-ass man, and he can tell me whatever the hell he wants. Even if that means keeping secrets to himself, when he used to tell me everything—!_

Whoa. Calm yourself, Clary. Pipe the fuck down.

I decide to stray my thoughts off of the escalading subject of '_bestie secret-sharing'_, and think about the song that's currently being played.

Adam Lambert = The Beyoncé of the male species.

I should've known. Damn, I'm slow today.

I don't care what anybody says; Adam Lambert is amazing. Point and blank.

As I listen to the song some more, and as the temple starts to slow and near the end, I come to another decision: When I get home, the very first thing I'm going to do is illegally download—I mean, _legally purchase_—this song. _Hehe…._

It's catchy, and I like it. Sue me, I dare you!

Wait—don't. I'm broke…

* * *

I squirm in my seat for the five-millionth time in the past ten minutes. It's so awkward, and I can practically see the testosterone radiating from our table.

It's so bad, man, so bad.

I look nervously back and forth between Jace and Will, who have been staring each other down ever since we sat down and Jem left to go get somebody named 'Tessa' for lunch. Nobody has said anything, and it's killing me, this brutal awkwardness. It's like everyone is afraid that they'll die if they speak up while the metaphorical pissing contest continues.

I'm done with this shit—they need to just get their heads out of their asses and say hello to each other. Or at least ignore each other. Something!

So, as for some explanation—

After Magnus and his band—which I found out was called _The Downworlders_—were done playing, Jem filed us all down to the cafeteria for lunch, because Will kept complaining that he was starving. That boy is always complaining, let me tell you.

Just another one of the things that make him resemble Jace that much more! This is getting ridiculous.

The cafeteria was really crowded when we walked in, so Jem snagged us a huge table in the corner and told us to sit down and get comfortable for a few moments while he went to get Tessa for lunch. I have no idea who Tessa is, but I guess that I'll find out soon enough. I've found that that's kind of how my life works these days—I get really confused over little things, but then the answers pop up out of nowhere and then I have even more questions.

It's like I'm shitting enigmas or something. Christ.

So now we're all crowded around a huge-ass table, all silently avoiding looking at the obese elephant in the room: Will and Jace. Well, I'm the only one who's looking at them, and I hope that they can feel my death-glare on their fat fucking heads. This is pathetic, it really is.

Jace and Will didn't even speak to each other—I don't even think they have had a full conversation since they met!—but lo and behold, they're scowling at each other and making my life a living hell. Even more so than usual.

Grow up, fuckers.

I look at the faces around the table desperately, pleading with my eyes for somebody to start up a conversation. Magnus, the lead-singer of The Downworlders; Ragnor, the drummer; and Woolsey, the guitarist, decided to join us for lunch. Gideon said that he'd join us, but he had to go get his brother first—which Will protested about greatly, but Jem kindly told him to shove it before he went off to find Tessa. So, there are eleven fucking people sitting at our table right now, and not one of them is brave enough to start talking.

_Dammit. Leave it to the ginger to do everything_, I roll my eyes.

"So…" I start, causing everybody to look over at me, some with relief clear in their eyes. But now I'm starting to regret this, everybody's looking at me. Shit. "Um, lovely weather we're having," I offer weakly, causing Jace to snort and break his stare form Will's.

He smirks over at me, amused. "It's raining, Clare. Try again."

I narrow my eyes at him, right before I ram my foot into his shin. "At least I'm trying," I mumble haughtily.

He jumps when I kick him and opens his mouth in mock-pain. "You've wounded me, woman! Abuse!"

I roll my eyes, but a low, begrudging chuckle causes my eyes to snap over to the other side of the table. Will has a slight smirk on his lips, and is watching me and Jace reenact with each other with curiosity.

Sadly, Jace also catches the chuckle, and turns his glare back on full blast. "What?" he demands bluntly, scooting his chair closer to mine.

I roll my eyes again and dig my elbow into his side. If I wanted a protective older brother, I would ask Jon to step in.

Jace shoots me a wounded look. "You're so mean today—!"

I just elbow him again, playfully this time, and smile challengingly at him.

But when I see his eyes darken and glint a molten gold color, and catch the determined edge to his mouth, my eyes widen. Shit. I've been down this road too many times, and I should know by now that you never dare Jace to do anything.

Because he'll do it, and succeed like a motherfucker. And then he'll make you regret everything you've ever done.

As I said: Shit. I'm screwed.

"Do you really want to play this game with me, Clare? Because you know I'll win," he says softly, slowly, pronouncing each word lethally.

I giggle nervously and try to subtly scoot my chair away from him, glancing around us. All eyes are on us—well, the eyes at our table, anyway. He's gonna cause a scene, and my dad's here.

And sometimes I think that my dad likes Jace more than me—because Jon is a little bitch, and Jace has some hope to grow up to be an actual man, or some shit like that.

In short, my dad won't help me. Jon might, but I highly doubt it. He's been in a mood all day.

I think I'll just start calling him Little Bitch—the title is certainly accurate.

Sadly, my chair scooting attempts haven't gone unnoticed by Jace, and faster than I can comprehend, he has ahold of the side of my chair. I scoot to the far side of the seat, swallowing thickly, and prepare to run. He'll just outrun me, but I'm hoping that he won't because we're in public.

But I highly doubt he'll be that nice to me—the man has absolutely no shame. The little shit.

Jon = Little Bitch.

Jace = Little Shit.

Damn, I'm good at this whole nickname business.

"Jace…" I warn, glaring at him weakly and looking around for help. Nobody offers any; if anything, they all look _amused _by this, the assholes!

Jace grins innocently and blinks slowly down at me, but it just scares me even more. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. "What's wrong? Why are you moving away from me, Clare? Don't you like me?" he pouts down at me, and I falter slightly when I see his lip stick out.

I swallow and force my eyes back up to his, but by the smug look in his eyes he knows exactly what he's doing. Fuck.

"No, I don't like you," I tell him, looking away from him and towards the door that lead out of the cafeteria. Maybe I can make it out of here before he ruins my life and mental sanity from embarrassment. Doubtful, but I can hope, right?

Right?

Jace gets a devilish smirk on his face, and I throw one of my legs off of the opposite side of my chair, ready to bolt. "I think you need a hug."

I shake my head. "Jace—," I protest.

But he just nods and looks over at my father, who looks like he's about to burst out laughing. "She looks like she could use a hug, Mr. M. What do you think?"

I frantically shake my head at my father, sliding my other leg over the side of the chair, but he just ignores me and smiles at Jace, nodding his consent. "I do believe she would benefit from a hug. It might put her in a less… _violent_ mood." He quickly glances at me, and I give him a scowl that promises the deaths of millions of nations of baby bunnies.

Well, maybe I'm not that cruel. I like bunnies. We'll replace the bunnies with spiders. _Fucking creepy abominations…_

Jace turns his head back towards me and shrugs as if saying '_Well, you heard the man_'. He starts to reach for me, I take one more quick glance around the table, absorb the many amused and curious faces, and then I push away from the table and start towards the doors.

When I don't hear footsteps behind me I think, _Holy shit, I might make it out! Yeah, buddy!_

Too soon, though. Too soon.

Strong arms wrap around my waist, and then I am being pulled back into a firm chest. I try to fight free, but we're in public and I can't just start screaming bloody-murder. That would definitely be bad. I might get locked up, and I can't go back to jail!

Just kidding. I've never been to jail… What are you talking about…?

"Where're you going, Clare? Hmm?" a soft voice hums in my ear, and I shudder involuntarily before I continue to push at the arms that are holding me in place. I'm so done with this.

"Let go of me, Jace."

He hums to himself, pondering, but then just drags me back over to the table and plops me down in my seat. Judging by how quickly he got us back to the table, I didn't even make it five feet away.

Pathetic.

I cross my arms over my chest and slouch in my chair, glaring at the table top as soft chuckles sound from around the table. They didn't even try to help me.

Fuck them.

Jace throws an arm around my shoulders and brings me into his side, and I try to shake his arm off, to no avail.

Fuck him.

He plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek, and I make a disgusted sound and use his T-shirt to wipe my face off with. This only causes laughter to erupt around the table, and I fold my arms on top of the table and bury my face in them.

Fuck _everybody_.

Fuck my _life_!

_Damn you, Herondale_, I think to myself sourly. _Burn in hell._

Of course, I feel guilty immediately after thinking this. Damn, I'm going soft.

Fuck softness.

Wait—I never said that. Gross.

Shut up.

"Oh, come on, Clare. I'm sorry," Jace whispers to me in the sweetest voice ever, and I sigh and roll my eyes, lifting my head up from the table and glaring at him weakly.

"No, you're not. Asshole," I mutter, and he just chuckles and kisses my cheek again, but this time softly, sweetly.

I try to hold my glare, if you can call it that, but then he smiles softly down at me and I feel my lips tilting upwards involuntarily. Damn him and his ability to be adorable.

"You're very mean to your girlfriend," an amused voice observes, causing both of our heads to snap over to its owner.

Will is watching us both closely, but he's smiling just like everybody else around the table. Jace stiffens and tightens his hold around my shoulders slightly, protectively.

But then his mind seems to register what he said, at the same time mine does, and we both start spouting off about how 'we're not dating', and that 'we're just best-friends'. You know the drill.

Will raises an eyebrow and nods condescendingly, not believing a word we just said. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, kids."

God dammit, he looks _and_ sounds like Jace! What the absolute fuck?!

"We're not kids, thank you very much. I bet you're only a couple years older than us," Jace tells him, sounding bored and putting up his 'I don't give a flying fuck' façade. I sigh, feeling another pissing-contest coming on.

Will just shrugs carelessly. "Whatever." Then he turns to face me fully, and I notice that everybody else around the table has started up their own little conversations. Well, at least the awkwardness is gone, so there's that. "So, you're Clary, the manager? How the hell do you deal with him all the time?" he asks, lazily nodding in Jace's direction.

Jace makes a noise of protest, something that sounds like "_She doesn't 'have to deal' with me—!_" but we both ignore him.

I giggle slightly, and say, "I've just learned to tune him, along with the rest of them, out. It just eventually becomes static noise in the background." I shrug, smiling slightly over at Will.

He chuckles and nods, seeming more open than before. "Yeah, teenage boys can be a real pain in the ass. I would know—I practically still am one."

We talk about really unimportant things for a couple of minutes, before I somehow just blurt out, "You know, you're a lot nicer than I originally thought—no offense intended. I actually thought that you were plotting to create an evil army of cannibalistic ducks or something—," I start to admit sheepishly, but he makes a loud horrified noise and stands up quickly form the table, drawing all eyes around to him.

I furrow my brows. Weird.

But then I notice that some eyes trained next to me, and I look over to find Jace with a disgusted look on his face.

My eyes flicker back and forth between them, but then Will starts talking at the same time as Jace.

"Why would I _ever_ do something as horrendous as raise an army of bloodthirsty beasts?! That's _monstrous_!" Will.

"_Cannibalistic ducks_?! Why would you be thinking about associating with such _vermin_?" Jace.

They both continue to spout off multiple reasons as for why ducks should be eliminated or some shit like that, but there's only one thought going through my head at the moment.

"Okay, you two have _got_ to be related! I mean, seriously! Come on!" I blurt out, my thoughts all spilling from my lips.

That seems to stun them both into silence, and I notice that our entire table has gone quiet as well.

Well, at least I know how to get people's attention now, don't I? All I have to do is mention feathered birds, and I could probably manage to clear a room.

Skills.

Then Will and Jace seem to both snap out of it, and say at the same time, "There is no _way_ I'm related to _him_!" and then they both look at each other with outraged looks on their faces, and I'll be damned if it's not slightly amusing.

I roll my eyes and watch as they both slowly lower themselves down into their seats, never breaking each other's stare.

"You might be related, even distantly. You do share the same last name, after all," I remind them.

But then Will's eyes grow wide and his head snaps over to face me. "Same last names? Where did you hear this, and why haven't I been informed up until now?"

"You have been 'informed', William. I told you last week, right before you met them. Remember? I also told you all of their names, and when I got to Alexander Lightwood, you started ranting about how '_That's just what we need around here; another Lightworm_!'" Jem says, imitating what I think is supposed to be Will's voice at the end, walking up to our table with a pretty brown-haired girl by his side.

Will stares at the girl—who I presume to be the long lost 'Tessa'—for a long moment with a wistful expression, before he looks down at the table and mumbles unintelligibly under his breath.

I hear a soft sound of surprise, and I look over to my left. On the other side of Jace sits Alec, and directly across from him sits Magnus—the sparkly singer. I furrow my brows slightly when I see that he's staring at Alec with an odd expression, but then I see his lips move.

He mumbles the words so softly that I can barely catch them, but they sound something like this, _"Alexander, hmm? You never told me that."_

I'm confused, and I only get more puzzled when I catch the blush creeping up onto Alec's cheeks. He's not even looking at Magnus, but I somehow get the hint that he understood that those words were meant for him.

Odd.

But I decide to just let it go. For now.

Eventually Gideon comes back with a shorter version of himself, who shares a glaring contest with Will, before they sit down at our table. The only difference between them is that the newcomer—Gabriel, as I learn—has brown hair, where Gideon's is sandy-colored. Jem apparently already told the cook that we wanted a couple giant pizzas, and nobody ever turns down pizza, so that's what we have for lunch.

But I still have unanswered questions. And they'll most likely not get answered anytime soon.

* * *

When we finally get home from Heronstairs Headquarters, Jace and I decide to have a movie night. We haven't really been hanging out as much as we usually do these past few weeks, and a little bestie-bonding time is way overdue.

So, at seven o'clock, I am climbing across our balconies and sneaking into Jace's room. Well, not really sneaking since he's expecting me, but… You know. His room is dark, but there's light coming from the hallway through his open door, so I follow it. I make sure to shut the door to his balcony all the way before I leave his room, and then I am making my way towards the Lightwood's kitchen and living-room.

When I get there, the distinct sound of the TV blares from the living-room, so I bypass the kitchen and go there immediately. Jace is sitting on the large couch that is sat smack-dab in front of the TV, messing around with a remote, and the comforter form his bed is sitting next to him on the couch. On the short-table in front of where he sits is a giant bowl of popcorn, along with multiple single-person packages of Skittles and Oreos that I know he just bought from the vending-machines in the lobby of The Institute.

I walk over and plop down next to him, looking at the title-screen of the movie we're watching. _Ghostbusters_. I'm down for that. I furrow my brows when I notice that Izzy and Alec are absent—I thought they'd join us.

"Where are your family members?" I lean back against the back of the couch and watch as Jace messes with the display settings on the TV.

He shrugs, never looking up from the remote. "Robert and Maryse wanted to go see a movie, and Alec went with them, I think. Or maybe he's out with his secret girlfriend, I don't know—he refuses to tell me." Well, _somebody_ doesn't sound bitter or anything. _Not at all_. "And Iz is out with Ratboy; probably murdering what brain cells she has left by watching him dweeb out about Star Wars," he mumbles, clearly not approving of Izzy's dating choices.

I internally wince at the mention of my other best friend.

I've kinda, maybe, sorta been avoiding him for the past month or so. He's tried texting me, but I guess he's just given up by now since it's been more than three weeks and I haven't even read his texts. I'm punishing him for betraying me, and Jace, by ditching his own band and entering a gig without telling me. And he could've ruined the guys' chance at getting noticed by Jem, and I would've never forgiven him if that happened. He should've told me.

But I'll admit that I'm just milking it now. I've actually already forgiven him, but I'm gonna let him squirm a little bit more before I let him know that. Details, details.

I'll call him tomorrow, and then we'll be besties again. Don't worry.

But I might have to bitch-slap him for working with the enemy: Kaelie.

He'll get over it, though. You know, eventually…

"So it's just us, then?" I ask, bringing my knees up to my chest and resting my chin on top of them as Jace continues to fiddle around with the TV.

He nods, glancing slyly at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Yep. Well, unless Jon wants to come join us too, but then I might have to go get my bat out of my closet… He's been glaring at me all day, and I'm kind of scared for my life," he mumbles, causing me to scoff.

"You probably just breathed wrong or some shit like that. He's just being a little bitch," I tell him, recalling my earlier decision of nicknames.

Brilliant work, if I do say so myself.

"Whatever," Jace says, before pressing one last button on the remote and throwing it down on the coffee-table that sits next to the armrest of the couch. He twists his upper body to face me and grins. "Shall we start this fest of ghost, goblins, and ghouls?"

I nod, and he grabs a different remote—the one that controls the Blue-ray player.

When the intro of the movie sounds through the room, Jace pulls his comforter over across his lap and drapes it over the both of us. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, and I lean into his chest, my legs still pulled up on the couch. He presses a soft kiss to the top of my head before resting his on top of mine, and my eyes flutter slightly with the sweet gesture.

But then I force myself to watch the movie, because it would be really, _really_ bad if I happened to slip up right now. We're alone, and I'm not very sure that I will be able to force myself to stop if something gets started.

And now I'm blushing just thinking about it! Great.

About halfway through the movie, Jace starts to fidget around. He keeps bouncing his leg up and down, and running the hand that isn't resting on my shoulder through his hair, and I am literally _this _close to punching him in the throat.

When he shifts again, I hiss, "Would you _knock it off_, already? You're annoying the shit out of me."

He stills, but then I feel his chest vibrate underneath of my cheek. I clench my jaw. The little bastard thinks this is funny.

I snap my head up to glare at him, but falter when I see that he has his lower lip drawn in between his teeth.

Damn, son…

He smiles innocently down at me, with that damn lip still caught in his teeth, and I bite back a sigh. He's doing this on purpose, I'm sure of it.

"You're staring again, Clare. Watch the movie, not my gorgeous face," he whispers sarcastically, drawing my eyes away from his lips.

I just turn back to face the TV without even acknowledging him. If he wants to be a douche, he can do it by himself.

Not even two minutes later he starts moving around again. I groan in frustration and slide my feet off the couch, starting to stand up. The loveseat is looking very inviting right now, and I'm gonna take the blanket with me. Jace can get hypothermia for all I care right now. I grab the comforter and start to drag it with me as I stand up, but then a set of arms wrap themselves around my waist and I am halted on the edge of the couch.

Jace sets his chin on my shoulder and mumbles, more like whines, "Where're you going?"

I roll my eyes and try to scoot out of his arms, but he just tightens his grip on me. "I'm moving over there," I nod at the empty loveseat to my right, "because I'm sick of you moving every five fucking seconds."

He makes a low noise in his throat, one that sounds like one of protest, and says, "Sorry. I guess I'm just a little antsy." He pauses, his lips softly ghosting over the skin of my neck. I shiver. "I won't move anymore, though. I promise."

I swallow thickly—his voice is low, and it's sending odd tingles down my spine. I'm not sure if I like them or not.

"Come on, Clare. Don't leave me all alone—I'll get cold. And I need my personal pillow." His lips rumble against my skin as he speaks, and it feels like somebody has ignited a fire underneath of my skin. I shiver again, but it's not because I'm cold.

Shit.

I look over my shoulder, only to realize that I've just made a huge mistake. Our faces are only separated by mere inches now—

—And Jace is looking down at my lips.

I swallow. _Not good_.

I scoot back subtly, turning my upper-body more to face him fully. "O—Okay."

His eyes darken, molten gold searing into my own eyes. He makes me weak.

Jace leans forward a little more, resting his forehead against mine. He brings up one of his hands from my waist and brushes aside a lock of my hair that's fallen behind my ear. My eyes slip shut on their own accord and a soft, almost silent sigh escapes my lungs.

Which is very stupid of me, because I can barely breathe as it is. And I should be conserving my oxygen at this point; not '_sighing_' like an asshole.

Get it together, bitch.

"You wanna know the real reason that I've been fidgeting around?" Jace asks, his voice nothing more than a mumble.

I nod slightly, our forehead brushing softly, with my eyes still closed.

He makes another one of those low sounds in the back of his throat, and what little breath I have gets caught in mine.

_Damn, that's hot_.

"I really want to kiss you again, Clare. I've been thinking about it all night, and it's driving me _insane_," he mutters, his breath lightly skimming my lips.

My eyes snap open, and I freeze.

Fuck. He's not even giving me a chance. The bastard.

"Then—,"_do it_, I start to say. But that's before I remember just exactly what happened last time. I lean back slightly, and Jace watches me warily as I inhale deeply and stare into his eyes.

I can't—_won't_—suffer through another brutally awkward month, avoiding my best-friend. I don't think I can do it again. I somehow managed last time, but now…

It was absolute hell last time, and we've just started acting normal around each other again. It wouldn't be worth it, to just let everything go to hell again. Our friendship is more important than just a small case of wild monkey lust.

So much more.

"I—Jace, I can't—," I start to stutter out, but his hand is still lingering on my cheek and I suddenly can't breathe at all. And it's definitely not helping that his thumb is idly moving across my cheekbone, and I'm _this close _to just saying '_fuck it_' and planting my lips on his.

It's not fair. _So_ not fair.

"What 'can't' you, Clare?" Jace asks gently, his eyes softening and his thumb continuing its torturous ministrations.

I breathe in, breathe out. "I—Things can't go back to what they were after we did this last time. I can't stand it, Jace." I'm pleading with him, for him to understand, for him to back away from me before things get even more complicated because I have _absolutely no_ _self-control_ when I'm around him.

He moves forward again, and plants a soft kiss on the cheek that his thumb is still resting on. "I know what you mean, Clare. It just about killed me last time—but I think that we blew this all out of proportions. We should just let things go where they end up going, and then see what happens from there. Okay?" he says, hopeful and wise all at the same time.

I stare up into his eyes for a moment, thinking this all through.

There are only two outcomes of this situation. Only one of them would be good. The other could ruin me.

It's a fifty-fifty chance, and I'm kind of willing to risk the loss. Is that horrible?

You see, 'cause we could put a stop to this right now—_I_ could end this before it even starts.

Or we could… just let things happen. And see where the future takes us. That sounds pretty cliché, but it's the better-sounding option right now. And it's the best one that I've gotten so far.

Decisions, decisions.

But really, we all know that I've already chosen. Because I'm a pussy, and I can't hold my ground in anything. Not that I ever really had any ground, anyway…

Screw it.

"Alright," I whisper, feeling undeniably small under his gaze. But I don't feel defeated; in fact, I feel strong.

Like I can finally breathe again.

Jace smiles down at me, but then his eyes wonder back down to my lips, and I just about die right here and now.

So unfair…

The movie is still playing in the background, but neither of us is paying it any mind. The TV casts a blue hue across one side of Jace's face, and the other is so dark in contrast. His eyes are glowing, and I can't help but think about how unearthly beautiful he is. It's both world-shattering and heart-racing at the same time.

Bewitching, alluring.

He tilts his head forward again, his lips lightly brushing mine. "Now, if you don't mind… I would like to kiss you again. Can I?" he asks, but it's more teasing than actually inquiring.

I roll my eyes—like he doesn't already know the answer to that goddamned question—and nod slightly.

He grins wickedly, before softly bringing his lips down on mine.

The kiss starts out soft—as they always do—but then it escalates into lip-bites and hair-pulling. Don't ask me how, because I have absolutely no idea.

But I do know one thing—my best-friend is a fucking _awesome_ kisser. Like, it should be illegal.

With one hand on the back of my neck and the other holding onto my waist, Jace pushes me down onto the couch. He hovers over me, and I grab a fistful of his hair to pull him down on top of me when he just looks down at me for a moment.

You aren't just gonna stare at me, bitch. You started this, you're gonna finish it.

Wow. I sound like a slut. Huh.

I guess Jace just brings out the _best_ in me (!)

He chuckles against my lips and moves his elbows down to the couch on either side of my head, supporting himself over me. I bite his bottom lip—something I've seen him do way too many fucking times with _Kaelie_—and he groans. I smirk slightly, liking the fact that I can get a reaction out of him.

I should've known better than to start something—

—Because Jace suddenly pulls away and sends me a devil's grin that makes me regret ever being born.

Shit.

He slowly leans back down and ghosts his lips over mine, and I try to lean up to kiss him again, but then he diverts his lips down to my neck. He trails light kisses down the curve of my throat and stops at the juncture of my collarbone. He presses a hard kiss there.

And then he bites down lightly.

Then he starts to suck, and I can't breathe. Like, literally.

I. Can't. Fucking. Breathe!

But it feels so _good_. What the hell?

I tug lightly on the hair at the base of his neck, and he groans lowly against my skin, and all I can think is, _Holy Fuck!_

I'm done. I'm just—done.

When he finally lifts his head up to look at me, I'm shaking and trying to control my breathing. I glare, and he just chuckles down at me wickedly.

He leans back down to whisper, "You really shouldn't try to best me at my game, Clare. You know I'll win every time," into my ear.

I just groan and bring my hands up to my face, one wandering down my neck. When my fingers reach the spot where Jace's lips just left, I wince. Jace laughs.

I glare up at him, but it's fleeting. "You're an asshole."

He smiles and presses another soft kiss to my lips. "You should know better. And I know you enjoyed it as much as I did."

Damn him. He's making this sound a lot dirtier than it actually is. We were just kissing, for Christ's sake!

And I'm not even acknowledging the truth about his statement. It's not important right now.

…Shut up.

"Whatever," I mumble, looking over to the TV. The movie is almost over—the_ Stay Puft Marshmallow Man _is currently terrorizing the city. Delightful.

Jace leans down and places his lips back on mine, drawing my attention back to him.

Okay. I can get down with this…

I reach a hand up to intertwine my fingers in his hair—

—But then the coffee-table next to the couch start shaking and making a god-awful sound.

I jump and almost bang foreheads with Jace, but he is already off of the couch and looking around for the source of the sound. He finally sees the coffee-table, and walks over to it. I sit up, watching him as he picks up a small black device—which I notice is Alec's phone. He must've forgotten it here before he left earlier.

And I also notice that Jace isn't wearing a shirt. How did that happen?

Not that it's a bad thing, necessarily… In fact, I think that he should just go shirtless twenty-four/seven. The look suits him.

"Where's your shirt?" I ask him, because I seriously have no idea. Did I take it off? Did he?

He just looks up at me briefly, looks down at his chest in puzzlement, and then shrugs. "I don't know, actually. Huh." Then he sits down on the couch, Alec's phone in hand. I scoot over to look at it with him, kind of wondering what he's looking for.

"What's wrong?" I look at the lock-screen, which Jace is trying to figure out the password to.

He bites his lip, looking slightly guilty. "He got a text, and I want to see what all he's been texting. And who."

I glare at him, sliding the screen so that it's on the lock-screen again. "You should just leave him be, Jace. So what if he's finally finding an interest in girls? You should just leave him alone."

"But he won't tell me anything!" he says, sounding like the whiny little shit that he is.

I roll my eyes. "He'll tell you who he's been sneaking out to be with sooner or later. Just give him the chance to tell you!"

Jace looks back down at the screen, and then he smirks. Dread curls in my stomach—God, what's he thinking now?

"What?" I demand.

He nods down at the screen. "I think I know who he's been texting… that little asshole. I knew he was hitting on her! Ha!" he says triumphantly, tilting the phone so that I can see the screen.

There's an alert that says:

**New Text(s) From **_**M.B.**_

The actual text is previewed on the screen:

**Hello, Darling.**

I swallow. Jace better not be a dick to Alec about this. The poor guy…

"That could stand for anything, M.B." I press the power button and the screen goes black, before I grab the phone from Jace's hand and set it back down on the coffee-table.

Jace shakes him head. "It stands for _Mo Brown_, I'm sure of it."

"Whatever. Just leave Alec alone, got it? He doesn't need any more shit from you about his love-life."

Jace rolls his eyes, but sighs and eventually complies.

When the movie ends, and the _Ghostbusters_ theme-song sounds throughout the room, Jace puts in _Ghostbusters II_. Bill Murray is amazing. Just saying.

We both end up lying on the couch, Jace behind me with his arm wrapped around my waist, and I can't help but think about what he said earlier…

_Maybe just letting things run their course won't be so bad after all…_

* * *

**Well, you guys asked for some more Clace action, so… I hope I delivered. :}**

**And I really hope that you guys like the idea of a rocker Magnus. I didn't want him to be the cliché fashion-designer or some shit like that so… *shrugs***

**This chapter is massive, so I apologize if I missed any mistakes when I was rereading and editing it. And I typed it all up in one sitting, and now my ass is numb. But I'm kinda proud of this chapter. It's almost 10,000 words long! It's 25 pages long, guys. Holy shit. I was originally going to split it up into multiple chapters, but I thought that you guys deserved this for putting up with my inconsistent update schedule. :D**

**Stuff from the chapter:**

_**Ghostbusters—1984**_

_**Ghostbusters II—1989**_

_**The Haunting—Set It Off (these guys are absolutely perfect!)**_

_**Ghost Town—Adam Lambert (I don't care what anyone says, Adam is the Beyoncé of Males. And Magnus is the Beyoncé of Downworlders, so… See the connection? ;D And I also know that this is a completely different style of music than what I usually pick, and listen to, but I really like the song, so… *shrugs*)**_

**TWB:**

_**Throne of Glass Series—Sarah J. Maas**_

_**There's nothing better than a badass assassin, is there?**_

**Thank you guys for all the reviews! Leave some more? Please?**

**Cassie Clare owns her stuff; I own mine. :]**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	23. Chapter 23

_Clary POV_

Can you tell when things are about to go out of control? When the universe is on the brink of destruction, and you can feel it teetering on the very edge?

Wow, that sounds really dramatic. Damn.

I think you can, though—because that's what it feels like right now. Everything has been going fine, great even. But it's been going good for too long, and it feels like our luck is about to run out. Or maybe we've just been grasping at straws and we just haven't known. Until now.

But then again, it might just be me over-exaggerating. I hope it is…

I throw my pencil down on my bed in frustration, bringing my hands up to my face and rubbing my eyes. I groan and flop onto my back, the bed bouncing under my weight. The sketch just won't work for me. I've been trying to draw for over an hour, but my thoughts are completely invaded by gold eyes and soft lips, and that's been translating into my drawing.

It's absolutely ridiculous.

My art teacher, Mrs. Blackthorn, recently told me about this art competition. Well, it's not really a competition; it's more like a talent scouting. And she told me about it like three months ago, so I guess that it's not so recent, either.

The Festival of the Young and Artistic—or as I like to call it, The FYA—is this so-called competition. Prestigious sounding, isn't it? I can just imagine a fat guy in a too-small tux eating macaroons and drinking eighteen-year-old wine in a ballroom.

Scary pictures, man. Scary as hell.

Anyway, Mrs. Blackthorn suggested that I enter the festival—said that it could help me get into a college when I was older, or maybe even get a scholarship. That would be nice, to not have to worry about college when the time comes. But that's years off, so…

Whatever.

And that brings me to my whole dilemma here: I just can't find out what to draw. I can't draw a portrait of Jace, because I do those all the time. I can't just draw anything random; Mrs. Blackthorn told me that it needed to have _emotion_ and _meaning_ to it—whatever the hell that means. My choices are pretty limited, and I have absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to draw. It's frustrating, and aggravating, and I could literally just put my fist through a wall right about now—

"What's your problem?"

I snap my head up in surprise, not having heard anyone enter my room. Jon is leaning against the doorframe at the entrance of my room, a small black book tucked under his arm. He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, and my focus suddenly shifts off of my own problems.

He must be exhausted. Hell, all of the guys must be tired. They have been working nonstop for the past three months, recording and writing and preparing all that they need to actually get their first album out.

I know, right? It's fucking awesome.

They have been busting their asses to get things ready the past couple of weeks, though. Apparently, Heronstairs Headquarters has a much larger base over in Las Angeles, and Jem recommended that the guys go down there to actually record their album. They have the songs all written—which is what Jon has been so focused on—and now they're just about ready to get them recorded.

They leave in two weeks. And I'm not going with them.

I wanted to, so badly. But the FYA is happening during the two week's they'll be in California, and I can't miss it. And Jem reassured me that I didn't really need to be there—that they would be in the studio most of the time they're there, anyway, and that I would just end up bored to death. But that doesn't mean that I'm happy about it.

I fucking want to go with Jace and the guys to California! And it's not just because they get to take two weeks off of school. But no—I fucking have to be the artistic child in the family. Damn my talent.

I sound like Jace. Cocky doesn't look good on me; it doesn't go with my hair.

But now I'm back to where I started: trying to figure out what to draw for the festival. It is, after all, only three weeks away.

I'm so fucked, totally and completely screwed.

"You look like you're constipated."

Thank you, Jonathan. Very uplifting.

I roll my eyes, pulling myself up into a sitting position with a dramatic groan. I feel like a seventy-year-old. Now all I need is my life-alert panic-button—_I've fallen and I can't get up!_

"Shut up," I tell him, cracking my neck and immediately wincing afterward. _Definitely shouldn't have done that. _

Jon stretches his arms out in front of him, the small book that was tucked under his arm now grasped in his hand, and yawns. With his mouth open. Very pleasant. "Whatever. Do you know when mom and dad are gonna be home? Because I'm starving," he says, blinking tiredly over at me.

I glance down at my phone, seeing that it's almost seven o'clock at night. So, maybe I've been trying to draw for a little bit longer than I thought. Or a lot longer.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I shrug over at Jon and start gathering up my sketchbook and pencils. "I think Dad had to work late and Mom's at some fancy art-museum downtown. They told us that we had to fend for ourselves tonight, remember?"

"But I'm so hungry," he whines, slumping and tilting his head back towards the ceiling.

I roll my eyes, standing up to walk over to my desk, and state the obvious solution to his problem. "Then go make yourself some food, idiot."

Jon scoffs and straightens up. "No. That's what women are supposed to do; I'm a _man_! And men don't cook," he tells me, acting like a superior douchebag.

I narrow my eyes over at him. "Then don't eat. Hell if I care when you starve to death."

Jon whines again, resembling that of an obese eight-year-old who wants another donut. _Well, guess who's going on a diet?_ "But you're going to make yourself food. Why can't you just make me something while you're at it?"

I turn away from him and face my desk to keep him from seeing the expression on my face. So, maybe I _was_ just going to go make myself food. But now I think I'll just starve for an hour or two; just to spite him. Because who needs food, right?

I set down my sketchbook on the desk, and then I turn back to face my brother, masking my features into those of nonchalance. "I already ate."

_Lies_, my stomach screams at me. But I chose to ignore it for the moment, because it needs to _shut the fuck up!_

I'm calm. _So_ calm.

Jon pouts, and sighs after a moment. "_Please_, Clary? My tummy's hungry."

My eyes widen, and I stare at him like he just declared that he had a secret lover named Hose. _His 'tummy is hungry'?! What the absolute fuck—?_

"You did _not_ just say that, Jonathan," I deadpan after a moment, looking at him like he's insane. Who knows, maybe he is…

He rolls his eyes and leans against the doorway, running a hand through his hair. I wouldn't be surprised if greasy residue comes off on his fingers when he takes his hand away; he looks like he hasn't showered in days. And teenage boys, contrary to all belief, need to shower _every day_. Sometimes several times a day.

It should be a law—certainly would help rid the public of toxic teenage funk. Gross.

"Whatever. What are you doing?" he asks, still pouting at my refusal to make him food.

I groan and gesture haphazardly at where my sketchbook now sits on my desk. "Well, I _was_ trying to draw something for my entry in that festival thing that Mrs. Blackthorn told me about, but I can't figure out _what_ to draw. It's like my mind is just blank."

Jon bites his lip, grooming his invisible beard in thought. I snort as he continues to 'pet' the air around his chin—he's such an idiot.

And yet, I love him. Sigh.

"Have you tried drawing something… nature-y? Like, the park… or… something," he suggests, looking clueless. I guess we all know who didn't get the artistic abilities in the family, huh?

_Well_, I think to myself fondly, _at least he's trying to be helpful. So there's that._

I nod, sighing through my nose. "I've tried everything, but I keep messing up. Oh, well. I guess it'll just 'come to me' sooner or later."

We are quiet for a second, but then Jon says, "What about a portrait? Like, you could draw me or Jace or something."

I swallow and divert my eyes, guilty. _If only you knew, Jonathan,_ I think, _that Jace is one of the reasons I'm having trouble focusing. _

Instead of saying that, though, I just shrug and mumble, "Yeah, maybe." Then I notice that's he's toying with the book in his hands again. "What are you doing tomorrow?" I ask, because I already know that that book is the one that he's been writing songs in.

Surprisingly—well, maybe it was just surprising to me—Jon's songs were actually pretty good. Jem and Will approved of some of them, and they're going to record them for the album when they head down to Las Angeles. I hate to be this sentimental—because, after all, I'm a heartless cretin from the underworld—but I'm really proud of my brother.

And The Fallen is going to be famous one day, I just know it. It's almost like a gut-feeling, you know? I can just sense that someday, hopefully someday soon, their names will be all over the press.

And to tell you the truth, that's a fucking scary realization.

But I'm still listening to what Jace said a couple months ago, and I have to keep reminding myself that I need to just take things in stride as they happen. Because too many things are happening too fast right now, and if I think about it too hard, or for too long, I'm likely to explode.

One day at a time sounds good, for now.

Jon shrugs and tucks his book back in the crook of his elbow. "We have to go down to Heronstairs HQ at two, I think. Apparently, Magnus has requested our presence. He said it was important, and forced Jem to schedule us an appointment and everything, but I think he just wants to have another 'jam-session'. It was really fun last time, though," he tells me, smiling excitedly at the last part, and I can't help but let a small smile spread across my face, too.

Magnus Bane is a very… _unique_ figure. Being the lead-singer of the up-and-coming band _The Downworlders_, he has hanging around Heronstairs Headquarters a lot. Whenever we're there—whether it is for practice, marketing, or just to talk about what songs the guys are going to put on their album—Magnus always seems to be there. He's really helped the guys with their performing technique, and he's even become a friend of the guys.

He has a very eccentric personality, that's true, but the guy is really nice. And he has a killer fashion sense, if you don't count the copious amounts of glitter that seems to follow him wherever he goes. He and Izzy have become kind-of friends, I think. But he mostly hangs out with Alec, when he comes over to The Institute. I think it's good for Alec, though—he didn't ever really fit in with Jon and Seb, Jordan is more of an acquaintance within our little group of friends, and Jace is the only person that Alec willingly hangs out with. And Jace doesn't even count—he's Alec brother.

So, all in all, it's good that Alec has found a friend in Magnus. Like, a true friend.

Wow. I pay a lot more attention to who my best-friend's brother hangs out with than I thought. Creepy.

Back to talking about Magnus. He's eighteen, so he's older than all of us. He's a Senior in high-school, and apparently he goes to this really preppy school with the rest of his band. Ragnor, the drummer, and Woolsey, the guitarist, are both Magnus' friends from England. I think. I haven't really gotten to know Magnus all that well, so…

But I have heard some details about him through the grapevine—the grapevine, being Jace.

About a month ago, though, Magnus suggested that The Fallen and The Downworlders get together and just, as he put it, '_jam out_'. It was interesting, to put it simply.

Jem had lead us to a really big auditorium in the basement of Heronstairs Headquarters, and then told Magnus to lock up when we were done. Now, I don't know Magnus very well, so I don't really have a lot to go on here. But from what I've gathered in the short time I've known him, he likes to party. Hard. And you might be thinking, _What the hell does this have to do with anything? _But Jem had to have guts to trust Magnus to lock up after we were finished without destroying the entire building. Like I said, the sparkly man likes to party, wherever he goes.

And I'm not very proud to say that I've been to one of Magnus Bane's famous parties—because he hosts them at Heronstairs HQ, for some unknown reason. Least to say, there was a shit-ton of underage drinking, and I was extremely uncomfortable the entire time.

Not my scene, dude. Not at all.

Anyway, the guys performed with Magnus' band, and it was pretty cool. There were two drum-sets, so Seb and Ragnor were having a little drum-off while everybody else played and sang. It was amusing, long story short.

I nod over at Jon, and ask, "Can I come with you guys? It's Saturday, and I have nothing to do."

He just rolls his eyes at me. "You don't have to ask anymore, Clary; it's kind of a given that you go wherever we go—you know, what with you being our _manager_ and all." He pauses, and I think that he's going to actually say something important, but then he opens his mouth and says, "Or maybe you just come with us because you don't have a life."

That bastard.

My eyes narrow and I scowl. "You're such a dick."

My brother—ever the one to cause violent thoughts to pass through my mind—smirks and winks at me. "And a big one at that. As a matter of fact, some have even gone as far as saying that it's _gigantic_—," he starts to say, but I cut him off before he can further traumatize me.

Damn it all to hell. I should really start thinking about what I say before I do so.

"Shut _up_, Jon! Oh, my god. Just get the fuck out—," I demand, covering my eyes with one hand and pointing out through the door that he's still leaning against to the hallway.

He just laughs, and then I hear his receding footsteps as he disappears into his room.

I walk over and flop onto my bed on my back, running my hands through my hair and groaning.

God, he's such an asshole.

* * *

Maybe Jon was right—I need to get a life. I have friends and everything, but…

I'm. So. Fucking. _Bored_. Like, it shouldn't be natural to be this bored. I can't find anything to do, and trust me when I tell you that I've tried literally everything. I've tried drawing again, but my so-called '_inspiration_' has taken a goddamned vacation down to Cozumel; I've tried watching a movie, but I just got bored again and ended up on Twitter; and then, finally, I tried to take a shower. Because, you know, when there's nothing else to do you wash your body, right?

God, my life is boring. Maybe I should learn to play an instrument—just not the tambourine, or the triangle, or the guitar, or any other instrument that I have to use my hands to play it….

Maybe I should take singing lessons from Jace. Except for the fact that I sound like a rhino giving birth when I sing in the shower… Or maybe I'll learn to play the banjo! _I'll go all Mumford and Sons on your asses, you'll see!_

…Or not.

I drag my hands through my hair, sighing. I close my laptop in frustration, cutting abruptly off the sounds of zombies eating hapless victims. _Oh, The Walking Dead. How thou art glorious!_

I glance over at my sketchbook, where it has been sitting on my desk for the past two hours, and glare at it. It's that damn sketchbook's fault that I can't think of anything to draw! I probably jinxed it, or some shit like that—without my knowledge of doing so, of course. God damned, stupid, mother-fucking piece of shit—

"Hey, Clare. So, Maryse isn't home, and Izzy is the only one who remotely knows how to cook—and we all know how that turns out in the end—and I'm starving, so do you think—," a voice suddenly starts to say, startling me out of my death-glaring contest with inanimate objects.

And I, having just watched two hours of zombies eating people when they happen to turn their backs for point-five of a second, do the obvious thing, what anybody would do in my situation.

I scream.

Or, well, I start to, at least. But then a large hand clamps down over my mouth, and I am silenced. _Silence! I kill you!_

_So_ not the time for that shit right now, Clary.

Gold flashes in my periphery, but I'm too focused on the big-ass hand covering half of my face to pay too much attention to it. And it's not like I could actually see anything—almost all of my lights are off, and only the small light on my desk is illuminating my room. And that leaves more than half of my room in shadows. Where zombies could be lurking, just waiting for me to not pay attention long enough so that they can devour my flesh!

Of course, the thought that zombies can't talk, because their vocal-cords are all dry and rotten and stuff, doesn't cross my mind until _after_ I start to scream.

But it's already coming out, so who am I to try and stop it?

"Mmmf mmf mmnm mhhm!" I yell into the hand holding my mouth shut, the sound muffled and broken as I bring my hands up to try and pull the offending object away from my speaking hole.

I did _not_ just call my mouth that… _Oh my god_.

The hand eases slightly, but stays over my mouth as I continue to claw at it. I even try to bite it, but it's not really working out for me. Dammit.

"Clare! Clary—Oh, hell. Shut up, Clarissa! My god, you would think I'm trying to murder you or something," the voice says, clearly exasperated by my panic.

I freeze, my hands dropping from the hand on my face. I know that voice. Shit.

Hot breath ghosts over the back of my neck, and goosebumps break out over my skin. "Now, can I have my hand back, or are you going to continue to act like I'm slaughtering baby puppies in front of you?" The question is asked dryly, and I roll my eyes when I hear the sarcasm laced in every word.

I grab ahold of the hand and throw it away from my face, twisting my body around to face the doors that lead to my balcony. Standing right in front of me, face shadowed and eerie, is Jace. It may be pretty dark, but I would know my best-friend anywhere. And his goddamned smirk is going to get slapped the fuck off if it doesn't disappear within the next two seconds.

"You cool now?" Jace asks, looking down at me in amusement.

I glare up at him and fold my arms over my chest. "Why are you here? You scared the shit out of me!"

He just chuckles and shrugs, before saying, "I didn't know I needed an invitation to be here. And why did you freak out? I alerted my presence…"

He looks so confused. I scoff. "Okay, first of all, you always need an invitation to come into somebody's house—that's how we determine who's a burglar and who is just a simple house guest. Secondly, I was watching _TWD_, it's really dark in here so I didn't see you, and I didn't hear you come in," I tell him, leaning back on my hands and watching as flops down on my bean-bag and stares at me.

"Wait—you were watching _The Walking Dead_ in the _dark_?! Who the hell does that? That's just an invitation for paranoia," he says, shifting around and making himself comfortable.

_Well, go ahead eat all of our food while you're at it, why don't you? Just make yourself at home (!)_

Wait—He already does that. Dammit.

I roll my eyes and flop backwards, just narrowly missing landing on top of my laptop. _Safe!_ "What did you want Jace?" I ask, sighing slightly through my words. I stare up at the ceiling, and hear the foam beans in the bean-bag shift as he stands up.

He walks over to stand next to my bed, and I watch as he smiles innocently down at me.

_He wants something._ I narrow my eyes.

Jace rocks back onto his heels, and says, "So, as I was saying before you started screaming like the little maniac that you are," cue me trying to kick his shins and him dancing out of the way like the fucking ballerina that he wishes he is, "Maryse is still at work, and Alec is the only other person that actually knows how to cook in our family and he's out with his girlfriend, who he is still avoiding telling me about—and I'll be damned if I let Izzy anywhere near food that I'm planning on consuming—so Max was wondering if you would make us some food. Please and thank you." He finishes his speech off with a dazzling smile.

By now I have pulled myself into an upright sitting position, and I just stare at him for a second.

_I knew he wanted something. Called it._

And that little bastard, using Max to get what he wants. He's a demon right from Lucifer's own hand, cast right up from the deepest pits that Hell has to offer. Fuck him.

_And literally_, my mind adds. But I ignore it_. No the time, Clary._

After a moment, I sigh and push off from my bed, not even sparing him a glance as I make my way past him and over to the door that leads out into the rest of the apartment.

He might've just reminded me that I'm starving. And I didn't really notice it until now because, you know, zombies aren't really the things that give you a big appetite.

Unless you like feeding off of other people's organs…

He hoots and hollers behind me, knowing that I'm heading toward the kitchen, and I ask, "Where's Max, then? If you're going to use him as an excuse for food, you might as well invite him over. Izzy, too." I make sure to add Izzy into the mix, because I know that Jace won't invite her over unless I say to.

And knowing Izzy, if I make food for her siblings and none for her, she'll throw a 'Bitch Fit'. A BF, if you've seen _White Chicks_. Wink, wink.

Yeah…

I open the door and step out into the dark hallway—it is, after all, nine at night—but when I look back to see if Jace is following after me, he's not there. I furrow my brows and peek my head back into my room, seeing him open the door to my balcony.

"What are you doing—," I start to ask, but then I see a small figure walk through the now-open doorway of my balcony, and I immediately recognize the figure.

Max.

"Did she say yes?" he asks Jace, watching as Jace closes the door again and then walking with him as he heads towards me.

Jace nods. "Yup."

Max mumbles, "Yes!" under his breath, and I can't help but smile as they walk out into the hallway and follow after me to the kitchen. Max. Is. Adorable. Like a little baby puppy.

So cute.

I peak into the living-room as I make my way into the kitchen, checking to see if Jon or my parents are sitting in there. They're not. Jon's probably still pouting in his room from earlier, and I bet that my parents are either in their room or they're just not home yet. I wouldn't really know, though—considering the fact that I've been in my room with the door closed and zombies blocking out all other noise for two hours. There could've been a burglar breaking into our apartment, demanding that we give him all of our Cheetos, and I still wouldn't have heard it.

Speaking of burglars, why do I always think that someone is breaking into my apartment? Maybe it has something to do with the copious amounts of abnormal people that live around me…

Or maybe I'm—like Jace said earlier—just extremely paranoid. Huh.

_I think I'm paranoid, and complicated. I think I'm paranoid, manipulate it. _

Oh, wow. That song… The memories, the memories!

I flip on the kitchen lights and round the counter that separates the actual kitchen from the dining-room. Jace and Max seat themselves at the counter, and I head over to the fridge, asking, "So, what do you guys want? I don't think we have any leftovers… We have cereal, but that's not really something you eat for dinner…" I open the fridge door and look inside, moving random food items around as I look for something to eat.

I glance over my shoulder, and see Jace leaning onto his elbows on the countertop. "What about," he says, glancing sideways at Max—who grins and nods, "pancakes?"

I straighten up, pausing in my food-searching. _Pancakes actually sound really good…_

"Okay," I say after a moment, closing the fridge door and walking over to the pantry. I pull out a box of 'JUST ADD WATER' pancake mix, and then head over to the stove.

Max leans across the counter, squirming in his seat until he's sitting on his knees and halfway to the floor.

_He really is just like a puppy_. I roll my eyes and smile over at him, causing him to grin at me and adjust his glasses.

"What have you been doing, Clary? I haven't seen you in a long time," Max says.

A wave of guilt swells in the pit of my stomach, and I reach down to get a pan so that I don't have to meet his eyes as I say, "It hasn't been that long has it? I just saw you yesterday."

It's true—I did see Max yesterday. But he was sleeping on the couch and Jace and I made sure not to wake him up. I don't think I've actually talked to Max in about a week, and the last time I did it was just to say 'Hi'. I'm a really sucky person.

Like, I'm a really fucking awful person. Dammit.

I straighten back up and place the pan on the stovetop, glancing quickly at Max out of my periphery. He has his brows furrowed looks really confused.

"Yesterday…? I don't remember that…" he tells me.

I grab a large bowl out of the cupboard and start reading the directions on the pancake mix box. I shrug, playing it off nonchalantly. "You were asleep. But I did see you, so technically…"

He makes a sound of protest. "That doesn't count! I have to be _conscious_ for it to count!"

I glance back at him after I dump the right amount of mix into the bowl, sending him a smile. "Oh, you have to be conscious, huh?" I tease him, causing him to bite back a grin.

Let's just say that the nine-year-old sucks at hiding his smiles. He even has dimples, and it's freaking adorable. He's just freaking adorable.

But I've already told you that, huh?

Max just ends up giggling, and I hear Jace chuckle as I started adding water to the mix. I glance back at my best-friend, and he smirks back at me.

I stick my tongue out at him, hearing Max giggle harder, and say, "Did you ever tell Izzy that I'm making food? She'll be pissed if you don't."

Jace rolls his eyes, and heaves himself up off of his seat. He sighs dramatically, before heading toward the front door, calling, "Yeah, yeah. I'll go get her," over his shoulder.

I turn on the burner and start oiling the pan. When the pan is hot enough, I start to pour batter into it, but then a thought occurs to me.

I turn around to face Max, and he watches me expectantly as I ask, "Do you think we should add chocolate-chips to our pancakes?"

He grins and nods adamantly, making me laugh. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Do it, before Jace gets back," he orders me, glancing over his shoulder as if to check for Jace.

I just laugh again and head back over to the pantry, grabbing the bag of semi-sweet chocolate-chips. I add a good amount to the batter, and then ask, "Why would it matter if I do it before Jace gets back?"

Out of my periphery I see Max shrug, like he doesn't have an explanation for his words. "I don't know…"

I chuckle under my breath and pour some of the chocolatified batter into the pan.

When I have about three pancakes made, the front door opens and Jace comes running into the kitchen, Izzy on his tail.

"I smell food," he says, seating himself back down at the counter. He makes a grab for the plate of pancakes, and I smack his hand away with a glare.

"Hands off. You get to wait until there's enough for everybody." I watch him with narrowed eyes as he hesitates, moves his hand an inch forward, and then fully retracts his arm with a pout.

"But, _Clare_…"

I roll my eyes at his whining and move the plate out of his reach. "No."

Izzy leans against the wall next to the fridge, and says, "You are, like, the best neighbor ever."

I grin over at her, fluttering my eyelashes dramatically. "I know."

"Well, someone's cocky," a voice that doesn't belong to anyone in the room says, coming from the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. I look over and see Jon leaning against the doorway that leads into the kitchen from the hallway.

"Hello, dearest brother."

Jon pushes off of the doorway and walks into the kitchen, coming over to stand by me. "What are you doing?"

I shrug and flip a pancake. "Making these poor, helpless beings nourishment," I say, gesturing over to Jace, Max, and Izzy.

Jon furrows his brows and makes an indignant noise. "So, you make our neighbors pancakes when they ask you to, but when I—your own brother, your blood!—ask you to make me food you refuse! Mutiny!"

I stare at him, watching with unbidden amusement as he takes on an offended front. Then I roll my eyes, because sometimes my brother can be the biggest drama-queen known to man, I swear to god.

"Would you like some pancakes, Jonathan?" I ask sarcastically, turning back to the pan and saving the pancake that's been cooking right before it starts to burn.

I see Jon nod out of my periphery and go to sit at the counter with Jace and Max. "Why, thank you, darling sister. Don't mind if I do."

"Yeah, but I mind," I mumble under my breath.

Jon just chuckles, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my smile at bay.

Dipshit.

* * *

**So, there you go! Hope you enjoyed it. I have a couple of things to say—or write—so here we go. **

**A lot of you guys have been asking for me to write a sequel to my first ever fanfic, Healing Wounds, and I've heard you. But honestly, I don't know if I will ever get around to it. If or when I ever do write a sequel, it will have to be AFTER I finish The Fallen—which I plan to finish this summer, or at least this year some time. And I have another fanfic that I want to write before I start even thinking about writing a sequel, called The Promotion, so I just don't know guys. But if I do get around to expanding the world of Healing Wounds, you'll be the first to know! :D**

**Well, now that that has been said…**

**Stuff from the chapter:**

_**I Think I'm Paranoid—Garbage **_

_**White Chicks—2004**_

_**And yes, there is an Achmed reference in there somewhere. ;D**_

**Cassie Clare owns her stuff—I own mine. **

**Thanks for reviewing! Do it again? Please? ;}**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	24. Chapter 24

_Jace POV_

I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the cool tile of the shower, sighing as hot water pounds down onto my back. Whoever invented the common water-heater—brilliant! The tile against my skin is steamy and slick with water, but it still remains cool. It feels really good. I think I might just fall asleep right here and now…

But no. I have to hurry up and get out soon, because we have to be at Heronstairs HQ within the hour to meet up with Jem. He's been helping us prepare for LA the last few weeks, and now that the time to leave is drawing dangerously close, we need to make sure that we have everything planned out and ready to go.

Because once we're there, in LA, we have to get down to business and record.

Exciting stuff. Nerve-wracking stuff.

And I'm so excited to leave I've probably been acting like a sugar-high five-year-old for the last few days. But really, can you blame me? I get to go to California, with my friends—though, not the one that I actually _wan_t to come with me, but I'm ignoring that for the moment—and we're going to record a shit-ton of songs. For our album. Which is set to debut in about a month.

It's fucking crazy, man. Really fucking insane.

We leave in a week.

I'm so excited.

Finishing up my shower and turning the water off, I step out and wrap a towel around my waist. The bathroom is foggy with steam, and I have to wipe off the mirror with my hand so that I can check to make sure that I actually washed all of the shampoo out of my hair. Because you never know, right? And there's pretty much nothing worse than drying off and getting dressed, only to notice that you still have soap in your hair. And then you have to get back in the shower, wash all of the soap out, before you have to get dressed _again_.

Well, or maybe you could just run your head under the facet of the sink. But anyways…

I just need to make sure that everything is in check, is all. My head is somewhere so far up my ass that even _I_ don't know where it is anymore, and rinsing all of the soap out of my hair is probably the least likely thing that I've been thinking about.

But like I said before: I just have to make sure. '_Better safe than sorry', _and all of those other cliché sayings, right?

I get dressed in my usual clothes—jeans and a T-shirt—and then I'm climbing over Clary's balcony and walking into her bedroom without a second thought. If she's butt-naked and standing in the middle of her room, letting it all hang loose, then that's her problem. She should know better than to not get dressed in her bathroom by now; after all, she _has_ known me for more than six years. And she should know by now that I come and go as I damn well please!

Luckily—or sadly, depending on how you look at the situation—Clary is already dressed and is sitting on her bean-bag when I walk through the door. So no naked best-friends for me to walk in on. _Damn._

She looks up when I close the door behind me with a soft '_click_' and smiles over at me. I grin back and walk over to her bed, throwing myself down so that I'm lying on my stomach and my chin is resting on the very edge of the bed. I look down at her and watch as she starts throwing colored-pencils into a plastic case.

"What ya' doin'?" I ask, pronouncing my words with a little _spring_ to them. Maybe—oh, I don't know—one would call it _pizzazz_.

Clary rolls her eyes slightly. "Grafting the skeletal remains of the last unicorn for scientific research. What do you think I'm doing?"

Ah. Sarcastic, are we?

I nod, plastering a serious expression on my face, and say, "Well, it's good to know that you're helping the cause. For _Science,_ right?"

She just snorts and zips the case shut when all of the pencils are inside of it, tossing the case over onto her desk when she's done. It crashes into a jar filled with paintbrushes, and I wince and they go flying all over the surface of the desk.

"Nice aim, there, Clare." _See? I can be sarcastic, too._

"Whatever. So, are you ready to go? 'Cause Jon said that Alec was ready whenever we were. And we've been ready for the past half-hour, but decided to wait to leave until you were done putting on your makeup or whatever the hell you were doing in your bathroom for the last hour," she says, standing up from the bean-bag and tossing a sketchbook that I hadn't noticed until now onto her nightstand.

I scoff—I wasn't in the shower _that_ long. And I tell her so. "I wasn't in the shower for an hour, Clare, and you know it. And by the way, I don't wear makeup. Men don't wear makeup—unless that man is Magnus Bane, and then that's a completely different story. He rocks the whole '_I wear guy-liner and I'm proud of it_' look. But makeup on me—No, never gonna happen."

Clary just walks over to where I'm sprawled out across her bed and looks down at me in amusement, making me tilt my head back at an uncomfortable angle in order to keep eye-contact with her.

_I guess I know how it feels to be here all the time now, huh? Her neck must be sore from looking up all the time—_

"I think you're forgetting that one time when you and Jon were convinced that you guys were going to become Goths, so you both stole Izzy's eyeliner and made yourselves look like raccoons. And then Seb and Jordan heard word of what you guys were up to, and insisted that they join in on it. And then when Alec refused to be seen with you in public, you all held him down and almost stabbed his eye out when you tried to make him one of your Raccoon Cult members," she says, deadpanning and counting each detail off on her fingers.

I cringe at the memory and sit up onto my knees, biting my lip as I watch her continue to recount the story.

"Lucky for Alec, though, Robert came home early and told all of you guys to wash your faces off before someone mistook you for amateur drag-queens," she continues, staring at me with an expression that practically screams '_You didn't really think that I forgot about that, did you?'_

It is silent for a moment, and then I clear my throat and say, "Well… At least now I know that if I'm ever in need of money I can always resort to doing drag—"

Clary cuts me off with, "Don't you even fucking dare finish that sentence, Jace. Just—_shut up._"

I chuckle. She's just too easy to rile up.

She glares at me and opens her mouth, as if to start speaking, but a voice from out in the hallway sounds through the door before she can even utter a word.

"_Clary! Go get Jace, and tell him to get his ass over here! And tell him to hurry!_" the voice says, undoubtedly belonging to Jon.

_He probably just wants to leave_, I think to myself.

Clary just sighs, rolls her eyes, and says, "Let's go."

I nod and get off of her bed, following her to the door. She grabs her messenger-bag and opens the door that leads out into the rest of the apartment, and I follow behind her as she makes her way out of her room and into the living-room.

When we walk into the room, I see that Seb and Alec are sitting on one of the couches in front of the Morgensterns' big-ass flat-screen. Some news channel is playing on the screen, and I stand behind the couch with Clary and watch the person talking about one thing or another with mild interest as I wait for Alec and Seb to notice that we're there. They don't, and I start to wonder what has them so entranced.

I furrow my brows, though, because Seb shouldn't be here. I thought he had his own car, so why is he here…?

Clary nudges me slightly, and says, as if she can hear what I'm thinking, "He slept over last night."

I just nod. It makes sense.

And then I notice that Jon isn't in the room, and I turn around to face the hallway as I hear footsteps coming towards us. Jon comes jogging into the room, his phone pressed to his ear. He is mumbling into it urgently, a look in his eyes that's a mix between excitement and fear. I furrow my brows and catch some of his conversation as he walks over to the armchair that sits adjacent to the TV.

"Yeah, Jordan—I know, man!—Just turn on your TV—Yes—Yeah, I know, dude. Well, we're supposed to be at Heronstairs HQ in, like, thirty minutes, so we'll talk to Jem then—Okay. Yeah. See you there. Bye," he says quickly, before ending his call—with Jordan, I presume from my kick-ass eavesdropping skills.

Before I can ask what that was all about, though, he turns around to face Seb and demands, "Turn the volume up."

Seb complies, and then I turn to face the TV also, wondering what the hell is going on. The lady on the screen—the reporter or whatever the hell she's called—is still speaking, and she says:

"—_the club scene has been acting up lately. As we can see here—"_

She points to her left, and a screen appears. A video is playing on it, and it takes me about five seconds to realize that it's _me_ in the video. Me singing on the stage in Pandemonium, and the guys playing their instruments in the background. My eyes widen and I listen more intently to the newscaster-lady.

"—_this video of the new up-and-coming band, The Fallen, has spread worldwide within the past few months. Coming in as one of the most viewed videos of the year at over five-billion views, The Fallen have been in the underground tabloids for months. And the views just keep coming every day! Filmed at an all-ages club in New York City, this video has taken hold of the internet. I wouldn't be surprised if record deals and producers are on their tail right at this very minute. There have even been rumors of the legendary Heronstairs Productions signing these talented boys, but we have yet to confirm anything."_

The video disappears, and the newscaster-lady moves onto another segment. Seb mutes the TV, and then silence engulfs the entire room for several minutes, all of us just staring at the TV in shock, awe, whatever the hell you could call this emotion. Maybe even elation counts, but I'm just…

Stunned. That's the right word, stunned.

I lean against the back of the couch on my palms and wait for somebody to start talking. Thankfully, it's not possible for Jon to be quiet for more than five minutes straight—not even in his sleep—so I don't have to wait long.

"We—we have to call Dad, or… _something_! Shit, guys! Did I just hear right? We were on fucking TV!" Jon says, causing all heads to turns towards him.

Seb nods and blows out a low whistle. "I know, man. Like… damn…"

Everyone starts arguing—I just start saying random things to feel like a part of the conversation—and then Alec stands up to silence everybody after Jon starts screaming.

"Guys! Why don't we all just _calm the hell down_ and go to Heronstairs HQ so that we're not late. I bet Jem knows about this by now, and he'll know what to do. Okay?" he says. We all agree, and then we're all filing out of the apartment, wanting to get to Heronstairs HQ as quickly as possible.

Ah, my responsible older bro. Always the voice of reason.

* * *

"Alright, so I'll see you guys first thing Friday morning, at the airport. I've already given your plane tickets and the information about hotels and just minor things that are going to be going on when we land in LA to your father, Jon, so you guys don't have to worry about that," Jem says, slowly walking us toward the elevators so we can go home. He pauses and inhales deeply, a thoughtful look on his face, before he continues. "And I guess that's it, guys. I've already told you everything I needed to, and you're pretty much ready to go, so… I'll see you on Friday, I guess."

We come to a stop in front of the elevators, and Will, who is walking right next to Jem like a tall, lurking shadow, clears his throat, stopping Seb midstride from stepping onto the elevator.

"You guys also might want to bring your instruments. That might be a good idea," he tells us, condescension in his tone. How old does he think we are, five?

_Jackass_, I think, hiding my scowl by tilting my face away from the rest of the group.

Oh, Will Herondale… How does one describe the legendary William Herondale… Well, for starters, he's a complete and total douchebag. I never thought I could dislike someone so much, but I do. I think I might even hate the guy—and I don't use that word lightly.

_No,_ I backtrack. _I don't really hate him; I just… wish he would go back to that stupid island he came from. And never return. Ever._

About two months ago, I found out that I have distant relatives that live in England. I already knew that I had some family members there—I remember my father talking about it sometimes when I was really little—but I didn't know that any of them were not able to qualify for AARP. And unless Will is secretly an eighty-year-old woman in disguise, I have a cousin. Albeit a distant one, but a cousin nonetheless.

Well, I actually have three cousins—maybe more, I don't know—but I haven't met all of them yet.

Will has two sisters, Cecily and Ella. I've met Cecily already—she's married to Gabriel, the financial manager for Heronstairs Productions and Gideons brother. She was nice, sweet, pretty; basically the polar opposite of the asshole that she calls her brother. But I have yet to meet Ella, because she lives in England with her husband and however many other distant family members I have that I was unaware of up until recently.

I have, though, spent an awful lot of goddamned time in Will's presence, and I can truthfully say that if the rest of my 'family members' are anything like him… Well, let's just say that I'm going to officially become a Lightwood and drop my last-name for good.

But that would probably disgrace my father…

God _dammit_! Now I'm all sad and depressed and shit… Fuck.

"Thank you for that very helpful tip, William," Jem says, and I turn back to face the group. Jem is eyeing Will sternly, as if admonishing him for being rude, but the fondness that never seems to leave his eyes when he looks at Will is still very apparently there.

Will is just smirking slightly in amusement—

—And he's staring straight at me.

I glare back at him, unblinking. He just smirks wider, and then turns back to face Jem.

Like I said before: Asshole.

"I'll see you guys on Friday, alright? Drive safe," Jem says, sends us a warm smile, and then he and Will are disappearing down the hallway from which we've just come from.

We all file into the elevator, and I'm still glaring after Will. That guy just irks me to no end. We all squish together in order to fit inside the moving metal box, and I end up pushed into the far corner with Clary crushed against my chest. Not a bad position—not bad _at all._

I wrap my arms around her waist from behind and pull her subtly back against my chest, her back to my front. That sounds kind of dirty… but it's not, I assure you! Everything is completely innocent here. It just sounds kind of… yeah.

Clary leans into me, and I rest my chin on top of her head, humming tunelessly under my breath. I feel her sigh and lean even further back against me, relaxing. A small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my foul mood from earlier caused by a dark-haired cretin dissipating quickly. She's adorable. But of course, if I ever told her that, she'd tease me forever. And then try to prove otherwise, most likely by harming various tender body-parts of mine.

So I'll just keep that thought to myself for the moment, thank you very much.

I close my eyes and listen to the small conversations that are going on around me, thinking back to what Jem said earlier this morning.

The press has apparently been talking about our performance at Pandemonium for months, without us knowing so. They've been grasping at straws to try and get more info about us, Jem said, but he's been keeping everything pretty low-key. He said that staying out of the public eye for as long as possible will be best for us, because when we release our album—after we record it, of course—we'll have little to no privacy.

Jem is _that_ confident that our music will be a hit. It's humbling, but I still don't have the same expectations as him. It will be better to have low expectations for something of this magnitude, rather than be severely disappointed if the outcome isn't what we expect it to be.

Jem told us that the news-broadcast that we saw earlier wasn't the first one, but it was the first one to be televised on a main channel. Most of the news reports that have been about us, or about the video at Pandemonium, have been broadcasting on the underground channels, the ones that only a few people watch, so that's why we haven't heard about it yet. He said that now, though, we'll have to be more careful when we go in public. Not only because the YouTube video was in great quality and you can clearly make out our faces and recognize us if you see us, but because now that the word is out—even if it was just a seconds-long segment on how mysterious and avoidant we are of the press—people will swarm towards us like vultures until they get more info about what we've been doing.

And Jem also told us that if, or when, our music is a hit when the album is released, we'll most likely have to drop out of public-school. Well, not drop out, necessarily—we'll just have to start doing our schoolwork at home. Homeschool, basically. It would just be a precaution, because apparently the public can be kind of crazy when it comes to famous people. And we're not even famous, yet. But I guess that it wouldn't be so bad, homeschooling. We've all—the guys and I—been doing our schoolwork ahead of time, just so that we're not behind when we get back from LA. I've been doing most of my work at home the past few weeks, so it won't be so bad. At least I can listen to music or something while I'm solving stupid fucking math-problems, then.

Jem even said that we might have to get a tutor, if we go on tour.

But that's thinking _way_ too far ahead. And we just need to focus on the 'now', currently.

Everything is set for Friday. We have our tickets—apparently Jon's dad has them, because he's going with us for 'parental supervision'. We have our hotel-rooms booked—Jem said that Heronstairs Productions has their own line of resorts that we'll be staying in while we're in LA. We have studio-time scheduled, and some professional recording guys are going to be at the Heronstairs HQ down in LA. Everything is prepped and ready to go.

Now all that we have to do is pack.

Well, most of the guys already are packed, so that just leaves me—and maybe Jon, because he's the King of Procrastination.

And I'm the King of Forgetting to Pack until the Very Last Fucking Second. Wonderful.

I should probably go pack when we get back to The Institute…

The elevator doors '_ding_' open and we all start heading for the parking-lot, lugging our instruments and whatnot along with us. I don't have to carry anything—'cause, you know, I'm the singer, and all I need is a mic and I'm good—so I grab ahold of Clary's hand as we walk. She sends me a smile as we move across the pavement of the lot, and I grin back at her.

_Oh, Clare. My Clare_.

* * *

I throw a pile of T-shirts into the black duffle sat on my bed, absentmindedly humming along to _Painting Flowers by All Time Low. _Truth be told, as soon as I got home from Heronstairs HQ I started packing. But then I got sidetracked with the announcement of lunch, so here I am, still packing like six hours later. I know, I know. '_What have you been doing all day, Jace?'_

Well… Netflix. Need I say more?

I may or may not have watched an entire season of Supernatural. Sue me, I got sidetracked.

I walk back over to my dresser and start pulling out various pairs of jeans, trying to think what the weather will be like in LA. _It's hot there, right?_ _So maybe I should bring_ _some shorts, or… something…_ With that thought in mind, I head over to my closet, where I keep the few pairs of shorts that I own. I usually just where jeans, because it doesn't get very warm here in New York normally. And it's either always raining, or it's about to rain, and I just figure that jeans are easier that looking stupid walking around in shorts while it pours outside.

And if anything, I will not look stupid. Ever.

While I'm kneeling on the hardwood floor of my room, rummaging around in the bottom of my closet to find those goddamned shorts, I hear the door to my balcony open and close above the music. Soft footsteps pad across the floor, and then my mattress creaks and groans as someone sits down. But I don't even look up, figuring that there are only so many possibilities as of who it is.

"So," a voice starts, and I roll my eyes because I _knew_ that it was her. "What are you doing this fine evening, Bestie?"

I finally locate the plastic storage-bin that has my 'SUMMER CLOTHES' in it—I know because it says exactly that on the side—and I drag it out from the back of my closet. When I have the bin out, I stand and bring the box over to my bed, setting it down right next to the duffle-bag. I quickly glance at the figure sprawled across the top part of my bed, and I roll my eyes when I see that she's messing with my phone—which is where the music's coming from.

"I'm packing," I mumble, opening the bin's lid and rifling through its contents. _Shorts, shorts, shorts…_

I see Clary roll her eyes in my periphery, and bite back a smirk as I realize we have the same response for everything—rolling our eyes. _It works wonders, I tell you!_

"I got that, Einstein." Clary shifts, and then the song suddenly cuts off, a new one playing.

I glare at her, momentarily halting in the process of finding shorts. "I was listening to that, you know. Hint, the reason it was _playing on my phone_?!"

What drama? Huh?

Clary just shrugs, smiling innocently over at me. She changes the song again, and I groan, turning back to finding appropriate clothing for warm weather.

_Shorts… Swimsuit! I might need that… Shorts…_

I set the swimsuit inside the duffle. "Why are you here, anyway? I thought your dad made some kind of fancy dinner, since your mom sold, like, twelve of her paintings," I say, heading back over to my dresser to find jeans once again after I'm finished packing shorts.

I hear shifting again, and then, "We already ate. It's, like, eight at night. You know that, right?"

I spin around, looking at the clock on my bedside-table in bewilderment. Holy shit. It's actually eight fucking o'clock at night.

So, maybe I was watching Supernatural for a little bit longer that I originally thought… Or a lot.

I wince and mutter, "_Oops_," under my breath.

Clary chuckles. "So, I'm guessing you lost track of time? Did you even eat yet?"

I bite my lip, suddenly realizing just how hungry I am. I shake my head, bringing a pile of jeans over to the duffle and stuffing them inside. "Must've forgotten," I mumble, but the thought that no one came to get me for dinner triggers in my mind.

Humph. _Rude_.

I straighten up after I'm finished stuffing the jeans into the bag. I just stare at Clary for a moment, thinking about food, and then the music turns off. I blink out of my daze and watch as she stands up from the bed, sets my phone of the bedside-table, and then starts towards the door that leads out into the hallway. I follow her movements with my eyes, but remain planted by the side of my bed.

She opens the door, then turns back to face me and says, "Come on. I bet there are leftovers or something in the fridge."

She walks out the door, and I'm left with nothing to do but follow her, abandoning my packing once again.

_I can always pack later…_

* * *

"God, now I want a Twinkie."

I turn my head slightly, glancing down at Clary where she's settled against my side.

We are currently sitting on the couch in the living-room, watching a movie. _Zombieland_, to be exact. _Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg slaying zombies? Yes, please_. _And, come on, Emma Stone is pretty hot._ After I found myself some food, we decided to watch a movie. And I guess that I'll just have to pack tomorrow. _What can you do, right?_ I have my arm around Clary's shoulders; she's leaning against my chest with her legs drawn up onto the couch. This is our usual movie-watching position. It's like second-nature, we do it so often.

I grimace down at her, causing her to poke her tongue out up at me. "Twinkies are gross," I tell her, just stating a fact. They're greasy, and fatty, and if I'm going to gain ten pounds from eating junk-food, it's certainly not going to be by _Twinkies_, of all things.

Now, Ding Dongs on the other hand…

Clary scoffs and sits up straight, pulling the blanket that was draped across our laps more onto hers. _Now I'm cold…_ "We _cannot_ be friends anymore if you don't stop hating on the gloriousness that is the Hostess Twinkie."

I raise a brow, challenging her. "Oh, _really_? You would throw away everything we have, for a freaking _grease-donut_?"

She shifts further away from me, to the opposite side of the couch, pulling the blanket along with her. I hold myself back from pulling her back to me, wanting to see where she's going with this so-called 'argument'.

Clary nods, a determined glint in her eyes. "Yes. I refuse to be friends with someone who doesn't appreciate all that Twinkies have done for the world."

I snort, mumbling, "Yeah, they've contributed to childhood obesity," under my breath.

This comment earns me a slap on the arm—and not a gentle one, either.

I dramatically cry out and rub my 'wounded' limb, staring at my best-friend in 'betrayal' and 'hurt'.

She just glares at me, tugging the blanket completely over to her 'side' of the couch. "That's not funny, jackass, and you know it."

_Know what?_ I think rebelliously, not responding to being chastised very well. Never have, never will.

Clary stubbornly turns back to face the movie, still on the opposite side of the couch, and I follow suit. But I still sigh dramatically beforehand, just to make my attitude clear.

Because why have an attitude if you can't show it off, right?

After watching the movie for a couple more minutes, I start to get cold. And I remember that a red-haired devil named Clary stole my blanket. So I do the mature thing, what any adult would do in my situation.

I steal the blanket back._ It was mine in the first place, and she can deal with it!_

I don't even look at her as I steal it—I just grab the edge of the blanket that's nearest to me, and tug it over subtly onto my lap. I don't make a sound, I don't do anything. I'm the picture of innocence and nonchalance.

So, technically, she shouldn't have noticed that I even took it. She should still just be watching the movie, just without her—_stolen!_—blanket.

So when I glance over at her out of the corner of my eye, I'm not expecting her to be glaring at me. I turn to face her, smiling angelically, and ask, "Can I help you?"

She just glares at me and grabs the blanket back from my lap, making me cold once more.

I pout. "But I'm _cold_, Clare."

She turns back to face the TV, spreading the blanket out over her legs and setting her jaw stubbornly. "You deserve to be cold."

"But I'll freeze to_ death_! I might _die_!"

"Have fun dying, then." She doesn't even look at me as she says this, her eyes trained pointedly on the TV's screen.

I sigh, getting the feeling that she's pissed at me. For what reason…

Well, I was going to say that I don't know. But let's be honest, I might've offended her however-many-greats ancestor. And I still wouldn't know for sure.

Scoff. Women.

When she refuses to look at me for another five minutes, I finally get impatient and ask, "Are you mad at me?"

Direct confrontation. This can go one of two ways: 1) She'll tell me what's bothering her, and then we'll be all buddy-buddy again. Or 2) She'll just get even angrier and…

Gulp. Let's hope for the former, shall we?

Clary turns her eyes on me, and tries to glare. She really does, I can see her biting her bottom lip harshly and staring at one particular point on my forehead. But she eventually fails, because her eyes meet mine and I know that she can't resist 'The Charm'.

Or, at least that's what I like to tell myself…

"Yes, I'm angry with you, _Jonathan_," Clary hisses, most likely trying to sound menacing but failing at that, also.

But the fact that she used my full name—the one that I don't really go by anymore—makes me wince. Okay, so she's pissed at me. Or she wants to be, at least. Hmm…

_Investigator Jace, reporting for duty, sir!_

"Would you care to tell me why? Or what I did to justify your anger?" I ask—and though my words may sound sarcastic, maybe like I'm egging her on, I ask them gently, softly, as to not set her off.

God, I'm making her sound like an A-bomb. Great work, buddy. That'll make her _real_ happy.

Clary falters slightly, and it's so subtle that I almost don't catch it. But I do, and I try not to smirk as I realize what she's doing. She's just trying to get me riled up.

Ah, I see how it is, missy.

"You—you're just being an asshole," she tells me, her voice sounding slightly uncertain and her words coming out as a question.

I nod, mock-thoughtful. "Sure, sure. But I already know that. And just for the record, I'm a _fine_ asshole. Nothing less."

Clary stares at me for a moment, before turning back to face the TV, not even giving me a proper response.

I chuckle. _Gotcha_.

I face the TV and decide to let her try to relax for a moment, before I start to shiver. _Why is it so fucking cold in here tonight?_

I bite my lip, before deciding to just '_screw it_' and glancing at Clary out of the corner of my eye. I'm freezing, and she's really tiny, and there's _absolutely_ no way in hell that she needs that entire blanket.

I walk my fingers across the couch, trying to be sneaky so that she won't see me until it's too late. I'm almost there, my fingers only, like, two inches from the nearest edge of the blanket—

And that's when Clary chooses to look over at me. Her eyes immediately zero in on my fingers, and she pulls the blanket even farther away from my grasp. "No," she tells me firmly, like I'm a dog who's just tried to steal a sandwich from the counter.

I sigh and ask politely, "Please, Clare? It's cold, and I know you're not really mad at me…"

There's a moment of silence—and not the respectful kind.

Then big green eyes are staring up at me, and I can't help but swallow thickly. _Well… shit. That's not fair._

A long-suffering sigh resonates throughout the room, and then, "Fine." The word is drug out, making is sound dramatic and overdone.

I try not to grin in triumph, but apparently fail because I catch Clary's eye-roll as I wrap my arms around her waist and bring her back over to 'my' side of the couch.

We settle down again and watch the rest of the movie, my arms wrapped around her and Clary trying to pinch me every now and then.

Just like any other movie-night…

* * *

When the movie finally ends, the sounds of zombies and whatnot finally muted by the end-credits, we are both lying on our side on the couch. I have my arms still wrapped around Clary, she's lying in front of me on the couch, and my chin is resting in the crook between her head and shoulder. I may or may not have been pressing small kisses into her neck during the movie.

Guilty as charged.

Clary turns the TV off with the remote, but doesn't make to move or get up at all. I take that as a sign that she's tired, and I start to get up, not wanting her to have to sleep on the couch.

Before I can set up, though, Clary turns in my grasp and leans up onto one elbow, looking down at _me_ for once. So, maybe she's not so tired. I eye her warily, slowly settling back down against the armrest of the couch. _What's she up to…?_

I raise an eyebrow at her in question, but she just leans down and presses her lips to mine instead. _Okay, then. That's so much better than asking questions…_

If she had done this a few months ago, I would've been too shocked to respond. It just… didn't fit the description of my innocent—though not that innocent—best-friend. But now, I'm afraid that I've corrupted every last innocent atom in her beautiful little body.

Well, there might be a _few_ left…

We'll fix that later.

I kiss her back, because _duh!_ That's just what you do when someone you l….like kisses you—you kiss them back.

Somehow we end up with me lying flat on my back and my head awkwardly being supported by the armrest, Clary straddling me with her hands framing my face. My hands are resting on her hips, and my thumbs have somehow made their way under the hem of her shirt, now rubbing slow circles into the pale skin there.

I feel… light, kissing Clare. Does that sound sappy? It's just… different with her. I don't know. What I do know, though, is that I never felt this way when I was with Kaelie. That's for damn sure.

I sound like that sparkly vampire douche. Gross. _My god, man, get your shit together!_

Clary bites my lip suddenly, and I almost groan. Almost. I'm, like, _this_ close, dude, _this close_. But I know I don't succeed at keeping quiet all the way, because Clary pulls back with a slightly wicked, but sheepish nonetheless, smile.

"Sorry," she whispers, her breath ghosting over my lips in the best way possible. I almost close my eyes, but I don't, of course. Because, you know, that's stupid—something that the Sparkly Vampire Douche would do. And if anything, I would be a demon-hunter. Not a fucking bloodsucker.

I chuckle breathlessly—I know, I know—and say, "Don't ever be sorry for that, Clare. Seriously."

She sits up, but remains straddling me, and grins. "You're such a dude."

I raise a brow, pushing my elbows back behind me slightly so that I can sit up a little. "Obviously. Unless you're suddenly a lesbian, but I guess that's okay…"

She stills, staring down at me in bewilderment. "What the hell—? You _do_ know you just called yourself a girl, right?"

I run my tongue over my lower lip, feeling the light indents where Clary's teeth just were in the skin. Dirty thought start to plague my mind, so I distract myself by saying, "Didn't think of that, actually."

…_And _I just admitted that I did something wrong to Satan's midget incarnate. Wonderful.

Clary just smiles down at me for a moment before settling herself against my side, saving me from humiliation and comments about my ego and whatever else she might think of.

She can be evil. And then, like right now, she can be really sweet. But don't let her fool you.

I scoot over against the back of the couch, making room for her so that she doesn't fall off. She rests her head on my chest and lazily starts drawing designs over the material of my T-shirt. I sigh silently in contentment and wrap an arm around the upper part of her body, grabbing the blanket from the other side of the couch with my other hand and draping it over the both of us before sliding said hand behind my head as a makeshift pillow.

Clary snuggles into my side and breathes out a slow breath, sounding just about as content as I feel. After a couple minutes of just lying here in comfortable silence, I feel my eyelids start to droop. It would be so easy to just fall asleep right here, right now. The lights are all off, because Clary has some weird thing about watching movies with lights on, so only the city lights coming in from the windows are illuminating the room and it's really peaceful—the perfect sleeping environment.

_I think I might do just that—sleep…_

"I can't believe you're leaving in a week," a soft voice murmurs, causing my eyes to open. I hadn't even noticed that they'd closed.

I look down, but all I can see in the semi-darkness is a head full of hair. "It's pretty," cue yawn, "exciting. And scary. But mostly exciting."

Clary's fingers still from where they were drawing some sort of mutilated horse, and she shifts her face so that he eyes are looking up into mine. She sets her chin on my chest, and murmurs, "I'm going to miss you. The rest of the guys, too, but mostly you. I don't think I've gone more than a couple of days without you being right next door for… years."

I nod slightly, the realization that Clare's not going to be with me for two weeks suddenly hitting me like a semi-truck. Of course, this realization has already hit me, more than once. But it just feels so _real _now… I don't like reality. The real world sucks ass.

And I'm suddenly a lot more awake now.

I squeeze Clare tighter to me, pressing a kiss to crown of her head when she turns back to lying her head on my chest. "I'll miss you, too, Clare. More than you know." I think I meant to mumble the last part to myself, but I won't be surprised if she heard it.

She just presses a small kiss to the spot where my heart is, on the material of my T-shirt, and then settles down again. My heart speeds up momentarily as she does this, before going back to normal, and I pray to god that she doesn't notice. I can't help it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

After a moment of just lying there, and me almost falling asleep, Clary speaks up again. "You better bring me back a kickass souvenir."

I chuckle and, without opening my eyes, say, "You got it, Clare. Whatever you want."

She just nods against my chest, before mumbling, "I'm tired."

I make a noise of agreement, and tell her, "Then go to sleep."

She must've take that as an invitation, because a minute later I feel her breathing even out and she's practically deadweight against my chest. I chuckle quietly once more, press another kiss to the top of her head, and then settle back against the armrest and shut my eyes again.

Right when I'm about to drift off, the memory of what she said earlier passes through my mind.

"_I'm going to miss you. The rest of the guys, too, but mostly you."_

I smile slightly as my mind slips into oblivion, thinking, _I'll miss you, too, Clare._

_My Clare..._

* * *

**Hi! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**And if you've been keeping up with the **_**Shadowhunters **_**TV show announcements and all of the pics they've been posting on Twitter and Instagram, then you might understand my dilemma here: I FUCKING LOVE MATTHEW DADDARIO! Like, it's so bad, guys, so bad. He's so adorable and I just want to wrap him up in a protective blanky and hide him away from the rest of the world. It's horrible, and I need help. Sigh. Moving on…**

**Stuff from Chapter:**

_**Zombieland—2009**_

_**Painting Flowers—All Time Low**_

**TWB (because I forgot last week):**

_**The White Rabbit Chronicles—Gena Showalter**_

_**Think 'teenagers hunting zombies while still going to high-school', if that makes sense. I've only read the first book of this series, Alice in Zombieland, so I can't give a complete review-y thingy for you guys, but I loved the first book. Barnes and Noble just takes for-fucking-ever to ship my books!**_

**Thank you all for reviewing, favoriting, and/or following! I'm really, really close to 200 reviews! :D**

**Cassandra Clare owns TMI—I think we all know that by now. ;)**

**Review&amp;Follow**


	25. Chapter 25

_Clary POV_

I finish braiding my hair, and then take another onceover in the mirror, making sure that I don't look _completely_ homeless. Declaring internally that I look fit to go out in public, I walk out of my bathroom and plop down onto my bed, pressing 'PLAY' on my laptop. _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix _continues playing from where I left off earlier, and I watch it halfheartedly as my thoughts start to drift. Again.

Today is Friday—and we all know what that means: The guys are leaving for LA today. Well, more accurately, in about an hour. They have to be at the airport at nine this morning, and it's currently 7:48, so I have a little time to try to calm down before my life is ruined.

Well, at least for two weeks. But that's going to feel like _forever_—I can already tell.

I'm not too keen on most of my friends going all the way to the other side of the country without me—and no, it's not just because I want to go with them! Jealousy has no part in this!

…Okay, so maybe I'm full of shit…

But still, I'm going to miss them while they're gone. I'm losing my brother—which, admittedly, I'm not too sad about—and my best-friend for two weeks. God, I'm going to be so bored. At least I have my art thingy going on, but that's only for the first week that they're gone. Then I'll be bored out of my ass, when I'm not in school. Dammit.

But speaking of my art thingy—the FYA is on Saturday next week. And I have yet to turn in my drawing to Mrs. Blackthorn. I haven't even drawn anything yet, actually, so…

Yeah, I'm screwed….Totally and completely screwed.

And it's not even that I forgot about it, or that I haven't tried—because, trust me, that's basically all I've been doing in my free time the past week. It's just that I can't find anything that I want to draw for my entry, and I want it to be really good. Mrs. Blackthorn said that there will be some pretty important art people at the FYA, some college professors and people like that, so I don't want to turn in something that looks like Jonathan drew it in the first-grade. I want it to be really good, to show off the '_artistic abilities_' that my mother keeps telling me that I have. Not look like something that I didn't even try on.

But I have, like, no inspiration for what to draw. At all. Like, zero—fucking zilch.

And the worst part of it all: I have to turn it in by Monday morning. Because apparently the guys who are setting up the festival itself need to know how many pieces are being entered in the actual festival, so that they can prepare the venue or whatever the hell people like that do. Mrs. Blackthorn told me to turn it in on her desk first thing on Monday, and it's currently Friday and I have absolutely no idea what the hell I'm going to do.

Yup. I'm fucking screwed. _Shit._

I try to shut off my mind—at least for a little while—but right when I'm about to get really into the movie, my window opens. I watch as a figure climbs lithely through the window's opening and lands lightly on my floor, before walking over to where I'm sitting. I raise a brow up at him in question, wondering what he could possibly want right now.

He should be double-checking that he has everything in his luggage for LA, after all.

Running a hand through his hair, Jace immediately starts talking when his eyes meet mine. "Okay, Clare, so Izzy just came into my room and told me about the fashion down in LA, and I was wondering if I should try to blend in, you know? So I googled what's 'trending' right now, and apparently everybody is wearing skinny-jeans, and I'm not sure that I have any that actually fit me anymore—since, you know, the last time I had any was when I went through that emo phase in middle school—so I was wondering if I could borrow a pair of yours. I mean, I bet they'll fit me, so—"

I just stare at him as he continues to try to explain his dilemma to me. But I can't actually take him seriously—I mean, he wants to borrow a pair of my fucking jeans! It's just so….hilarious? Would that be the right word? Maybe unbelievable; not just because a) My jeans would never fit his fat ass. But also because b) _He's asking for a fucking pair of pants_. From me—a _girl._

Oh, boy. We've got ourselves a little situation here, don't we?

I clear my throat—though it sounds more like a laugh than what I intended, but whatever—and say, cutting off his ranting about how he '_needs a pair of my pants'_, "Uh, Jace? Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen, buddy. Not only because there's no way my jeans will fit you, but also because you would look really stupid walking around in my pants. Like, seriously? No."

Jace sighs. "Then what am I supposed to do? Because Izzy said that all the punk-people wear skinnies, and I have none, and I'm going to look stupid when we get to LA and I'm just wearing regular jeans, and—," he starts to ramble again, but I cut him off before he can work himself up further. Because a dramatically-panicked Jace is not a fun one, let me assure you.

"Whoa, dude. Calm down. I'm sure that Jon has an extra pair or two in his closet—let's just go ask him," I tell him, shutting my laptop and sitting up straighter than before.

Jace pauses. "Okay…. I guess that'd be cool… But wait—since when does Jon wear skinny-jeans? And since when has he even _owned_ any?"

I blink up at him, before jumping off of my bed and furrowing my brows at him. "Jace… Jon wears skinnies, like, every day. I'm pretty sure that those are the only types of jeans he owns anymore, actually." _How in the hell has he not noticed this by now?! He's around Jon, like, almost every day! It's ridiculous!_

Or maybe he's just very unperceptive of what kind of pantaloons my brother wears on his body…

Jace furrows his brows, also, but then just nods and starts towards the door that leads out of my room. And I'm left with nothing to do but follow him.

I trail him down the hallway a little ways, until he stops in front of Jon's door. He raps his knuckles on the dark wood—like he's actually using those manners of his that I forgot he had!—and then patiently leans against the other side of the hallway as he waits for Jon to open the door. I sigh when Jon doesn't answer after a couple of minutes, and pound my fist on the door as hard as I can.

If he's sleeping, that's not my damned fault! He should be up and at 'em already at—_checks metaphorical watch_—8:20 in the morning. Oh—so we should probably start towards the airport in about ten minutes… You know, just so that the guys aren't late or anything.

A groan sounds from the other side of the door, and I can't help but think, _'Why the hell does it sound like a dying walrus is in my brother's room?'_ But then the door opens, and I realize that it was just my brother. _Maybe we should get him checked out… Those sounds can't be normal…_

"What do you want, Clarissa?" Jon demands, his voice grumpy, looking like he just woke up. In fact, I'm almost positive that he just woke up, because he's shirtless and his hair resembles that of a homeless person's.

But can we back up for a minute—my brother is shirtless. And he's standing, like, a foot away from me. That means that my face is literally almost touching his _chest_. Ew. Brother body. Brother _man-boobs_. God, ew. Gross.

I hastily back away from him, lest I throw up, before answering his question once I'm a safe distance away from his _body_. Gross. "Um… We need a pair of your pants."

I almost bite my tongue, because _Goddammit_ I could have worded that better.

Jon yawns and rubs his eyes, resembling what a true gentleman should do in the presence of a lady. Well, I guess lad_ies_, if you count Jace… Because he is a pretty little lady, too, and I wouldn't want him to feel left out, would I?

"And why do you need a pair of my underwear?" Jon asks, meeting Jace's eyes briefly from over my head and giving him a weird look. Jace snorts behind me.

I roll my eyes. "Not your underwear—we need a pair of your _pants_, Jonathan. You know, jeans, some people call them pantaloons…?"

_God, you would think that wouldn't have to explain what pants are to my seventeen-year-old brother! Like, for fuck's sake!_

Jon just nods in realization, sighs, and then disappears back into his room. He doesn't really disappear, though, because I can see him rummaging around in his dresser from where I stand. And I can also see the floor of his room—well, what _used_ to be his floor. You can't really see the hardwood anymore, though, because it's now currently covered in his shit. There are papers and clothes and pizza boxes and—my god—_underwear_. I bet they're dirty, too.

Jon comes back a moment later, saving my curious eyes from finding something truly scarring on his floor, and pushes a wadded-up piece of fabric into my hands. "There. Now, leave. I want to go back to sleep…" He starts to close the door again, but I stick my foot between the frame and the door before he can shut it all the way.

And _dammit_, that was not a good idea on my part. _Fuck, _that hurts.

_Ignore the pain, Clary, ignore the pain._

"Ow, shit—Jon! Um, we actually should be leaving for the airport soon, so I wouldn't go back to sleep if I were you. Just a heads up," I tell him, retracting my foot and hugging it to my body—as high up as I can get it because I'm not flexible _at all_.

Jon just groans and shuts the door the rest of the way, leaving me and Jace standing in the hallway. I toss the pair of jeans at Jace, who catches them like a fucking pro-baller, and then head towards the kitchen.

Food is my next mission in life. Well, it's the ever-present mission in my life—and right now it's the current one.

Jace follows behind me, and stays quiet until I have an apple and am heading back to my room. When I'm walking through the doorway that leads to my own personal cave, he says, "I can't believe we're actually leaving."

I pause, only for a millisecond, and then flop down onto my bed, propping my chin up onto my hands. "Yeah… But it's not like you're never coming back again. Two weeks of beaches and Jem slave-driving you in the studio, and then I'll have to deal with your annoying ass again," I tease, but it's half-heartedly. _I don't want to talk about you leaving me, Jace—please, stop._

"Oh, come on," Jace says lightly, kneeling down at the end of the bed, right next to my head. He sets his chin on the edge of the bed and smiles 'angelically' at me. "You love my ass."

I blink at him—I was _not _expecting him to go down that route, but… Well, he started it.

I tilt my head, a mock-thoughtful look on my face. "Well… yeah. It's a nice ass." _And no, I'm not fighting off a blush that would top even Alec's brightest blush—what are you talking about…?_

Slight surprise shows in Jace's eyes, but then he smirks evilly at me and scoots his head closer to mine. "I know that, _Clare_. It is a very, very fine ass."

I just make a slight noise of agreement as a reply, my entire focus now completely going off the rails. _Just a little bit closer, Jace… Move your fat head closer…_

But sadly, Jace can't let me have anything, and he backs away right before our lips meet. Like, I could literally feel his breath on my lips. Dammit.

I watch with hidden disappointment—which I must not be hiding very welly, if the goddamned smirk on his face is anything to go by—as he stands up from the floor and crosses my room to the window. I sit up right as he slides the glass up and slips one of his legs over the sill, a confused and slightly pouty expression on my face._ But I will deny the last part if you tell anyone!_

"Where're you going?"

Jace glances back at me and flashes an innocent smile. "Oh, I'm just going to go change into these _lovely_ tight-ass pants," he tells me, mockingly waving the jeans in his hand towards me.

I bite my lip, trying to keep my retort in. I fail. "Don't you mean '_fat_-ass pants'? 'Cause I'm pretty positive that your ass won't fit into anything tight… it's too large."

Okay, so not my best comeback. But at least I tried, right?

Jace just glares at me, sticks his tongue out like the five-year-old that he is mentally, and then disappears through the window's opening.

I sigh and pick up my apple from where I had set it next to me on the bed, taking a bite out of it.

_Oh, Jace…_

* * *

"Guys, come _on_! We're going to be late, and then we'll miss our flight. We still have to go through security and check our bags," Jon whines, as if he's not the reason we're so late getting to the airport.

I swear to god, my brother takes longer to get ready than I do. And he's supposed to be low-maintenance!

Jace scoffs, shouldering his duffle bag from the back of my mom's car—she offered to take everybody that was going to the airport form The Institute with her, because my dad is going with the guys to LA for 'parental supervision' and someone would have to come get Alec's car from the airport if he took it here. "You're the reason we're so late, Jonnie-Boy. If you hadn't taken time to straighten your hair, we would already be through security and in our terminal by now—," Jace starts to say, walking over to stand next to me while everybody else gets their luggage from the back of the car.

Alec cuts him off, eyeing Jon weirdly. "You straightened your hair? Why? And it looks the same as it always does…"

Jon does one of those stupid 'I can flick my hair out of my face because I'm a self-appointed douche' moves, and then looks pointedly at Alec. "That was awesome, wasn't it?"

Alec looks lost for words—maybe he's just trying to come up with something to say that won't be overly-offensive—but Jace butts in before he can get a reply out.

Oh, Jace, how kind art thou? _Not very…_

"You looked like a Bieber-wannabe. Stop."

I sigh and dig my elbow into his ribs, trying to stop the war I feel coming on. It is way too early in the morning for this shit—even if I've been up for hours already, it's too early. Jace just shoots me a look that says '_What?_', but my dad slams the back door of my mom's car before anybody can say anything else.

"Okay, guys, we should probably start heading in. Jem and Will are meeting us in the terminal, so we don't have to chase them around the airport, and I think Seb and Jordan are meeting us in the baggage-check area—right, Alec?" Dad says, shouldering his carry-on bag and dragging his suitcase behind him towards where we all have gathered off to the side of the vehicle.

I internally wince at the mention of Will and Jem—I feel really bad for Jem and the rest of the guys, because they are going to be stuck on an hours-long plane ride with both Jace _and _Will. I can barely imagine being in a confined metal box with Jace for more than an hour; no matter how much I love him, he's an idiot and gets really annoying after a while. And poor Jem and the rest of the guys are basically being trapped thousands of feet up in the air with not one, but _two_ Jaces.

_I'll pray for them_, I decide mentally, before I tune back in to the conversation happening around me.

Alec nods. "That's what we agreed on, yeah."

We all start towards the nearest entrance of the airport—because, after all, it's a large airport, and it has more than one entrance. Jace and I are practically walking on top of each other we're so close; the realization that we're going to be apart for two weeks seems to have hit us both as we've neared the airport. And it hit hard.

_Oh god, what the hell am I going to do without My Idiot for two freaking weeks?_

When we're walking through the automatic-doors that lead into the gigantic building, Jace suddenly laces his fingers through mine. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and he sends me a soft grin. I bite my lip, then turn back to look where I'm going. Because if I happen to walk straight into a giant pole while I'm staring at my boyf—_best-friend_, I'm going to be pissed.

_And you never noticed my slip-up. You saw nothing…_

People are everywhere inside the airport, and I'm almost completely positive that if I had social-anxiety I would be panicking right about now.

It's really mind-blowing when you realize just how many people are in the world—and this airport is only full of a small portion of them. That was really random, Clary…

Moving on.

My dad leads our group up various escaladers, gets us lost several times because he 'doesn't need to look at the stupid signs that are stuck in the ceiling to know where he's going' and because he's 'a man, and men don't need directions', and then he finally allows my mom to lead our group after realizing that the guys are going to miss their flight if he doesn't stop being a 'man'. And through all of this, my hand stays intertwined with Jace's, refusing to release its hold by even a millimeter.

When we finally reach the baggage-check, we meet up with Jordan and Seb and the guys quickly hand over their bags to the annoyed-looking lady behind the counter. Of course, it takes more time than we would like it to, because the lady has to weigh the bags and make our lives more difficult by being a _bitch_—I mean, she eventually lets us move on. I hate difficult people.

Jon looks slightly panicked as we rush through the masses of people walking through the airport, claiming that they're going to miss their flight and that Jem will decide that he doesn't want to sign them anymore since they couldn't even make their own _flight_. This is an absolutely ridiculous thing to say—and we all tell him exactly that as we follow arrows pointing towards the Security area, but he doesn't seem to even notice that he's just being a drama-queen. My brother is literally my sister sometimes—_most of the time_. Sigh.

The check-in area, where you have to show some lady your ticket so that you can proceed onto the Security portion of the airport, is full of people in line, so we all gather in a little group off to the side so that we can say our goodbyes and all that. My mom and I aren't allowed to go past this section since we're not actually going on the plane, apparently, so we have to make do here. Oh, the difficulties of following rules made by the government.

My dad hugs me and kisses the top of my head, which I make a face at because, '_I'm not five anymore, Dad'_; my mom hugs Jon and gives my dad a kiss—which I did not need to see , _ever_; and then it's time for Jon to act like an actual human being and hug me. If only it were that simple, though…

My older brother, who is almost twice my size and should act like an actual man, pretends to start crying. And no, I'm not shitting you; he actual summons up fake tears and blubbers like a fucking two-year-old.

"Oh, Clare-bear! What am I to do without my little baby sis'! No! I won't leave you!" he cries, bending down and wrapping his arms around me, burying his face in my neck and picking me up off the ground. I clench my jaw and look around me for help, needing somebody to come and get this overgrown toddler away from me.

"Get off, Jon," I hiss under my breath, noticing the curious looks thrown our way from all around thee check-in area. Nobody is offering to help me, either. Not even my supposed 'family members'.

My family is officially disowned—along with the majority of my friends. I don't want them anymore.

My parents, the two people that I should be able to trust with protecting me, are just staring at my brother with soft eyes, like they're _so very proud_ of him—for what, I haven't the slightest clue. My mom looks like she's about to start crying—because either Jon is a really good actor, or she's completely oblivious of the way he's shaking as he laughs his ass off while still holding me captive. My father, on the other hand, looks like he's about to burst out laughing, if the way he keeps clearing his throat is anything to go by. Jordan and Seb are chuckling into their fists, Alec looks mortified because he's apparently taken note of the many pairs of eyes on us from the commotion too, and then there's my 'bestie'.

Oh, _bestie_ my ass. I could shoot my bestie—he's just smirking at me, that bastard. He's not even going to help me, is he?

Damn him.

"But, Clare-bear! I love you, and I'm going to miss you so much!"

_Jonathan, I'll give you to the count of three, and if you're not within a reasonable distance away from my body, I'm going to knee you in your 'jewels'. Hard._

"Jonathan Christopher, if you don't put me down right now I'm going to show mom that special little magazine stash under your bed while your gone—," I start to hiss, but he immediately lets go of me.

Jon holds his hands up in front of him, smiling 'innocently' down at me. _Asshole._ "Okay, okay. No need to get nasty, little sister."

I just glare at him and start straightening out my shirt from where it rode up while he was brotherly molesting me with hugs.

That sounded really gross… wow…

Okay, we're just going to forget I ever said that. Moving on…

After saying goodbye to the rest of the guys, and after threatening them that they all better FaceTime me every single day or else, it's finally time to send them off. Well, almost time; I still have to say goodbye to Jace.

I know, I know—get out your tissues because this is going to be a tear-worthy production, ladies and gentlemen.

Jace wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, and I have to close my eyes because I'm not going to be able to hug him for _two weeks_. Oh god, how am I going to survive?

I breathe in his scent—I know, '_that's weird'_, but can you blame me? And he smells _good_, too. I need help.

I don't know how long we stand there, just hugging, but it must've been a little too long to be socially acceptable because someone clears their throat. Well—several '_someone_'s clear their throats.

I pull back from Jace and turn around to face the rest of the group, glaring immediately at my brother. Because let's be honest—he's the one who started the whole 'awkwardly clearing your throat' thing. I don't even have to ask; I just know.

Jon just gives me a '_what?_' look, and then says, "We're going to be late if you two don't hurry up."

"Are you seriously going to tell me that I'm the reason you're going to be late—," I start, because _really_? He's the one who took forever to do his hair. Not me.

And I highly doubt that me giving my bestie a hug is going to kill him. And if it does—oh well.

He rolls his eyes, and then turns to talk to my mom. I turn back around to face Jace.

"I'm going to miss you," Jace says, picking up my braid and playing with the ends. He bites his lip and his eyes follow his fingers as they loop in and out of my hair.

I grab my hair back from him gently, not wanting him to take out my ponytail-holder because I know that's where he's going with it. He always does that. Frustrating.

"I'll miss you too, idiot," I tell him, watching as he lifts his eyes to my face and leans closer. My pulse races—he better not be doing what I think he's doing.

I mean, it's not necessarily a bad thing—it's just that my _dad_'s not even ten feet away. And we haven't exactly told people that we're secret make-out buddies yet, so… Also, Jon. He's been acting particularly grumpy the past few weeks, and I don't think doing _that _will help—

—Jace's lips meet mine. _See? Called it._

I almost protest—I said _almost._ But really, it's Jace. And he's kissing me. And he's leaving. So I kiss him back.

Simple, really.

I wrap my arms lightly around his neck and stand up on my tiptoes, trying to get as close as possible. He pulls me against him softly and leans down so that I don't have to stretch up quite so far.

_Thanks, homie._

I close my eyes and try to ignore all of the people around us, trying to just say a temporary goodbye to my… Jace.

But then—

"Uh… Guys?"

Shit. I pull back and detangle myself from Jace, who is smirking and looks pretty satisfied with himself, turning to face the group. All of the guys are gaping at us, except for Jon. He's just glaring at Jace. I swallow and look toward my parents.

Nothing. It's like they didn't even see what just happened. They don't look surprised at all, actually. It's… a little unnerving.

My dad just rolls his eyes slightly, and then raises an eyebrow over at us. "Are you done now? can we leave?"

I stare at him, shocked. I thought he was supposed to be… I don't know… protective? Bid daddy bear? Huh…

My mom slaps my dad on the arm lightly. "Oh, leave them alone, Val."

Jon turns toward them with a betrayed expression, demanding, "You're just going to stand there?! He was just molesting her face—!"

"Jonathan, knock it off. They're dating,"—_we are?_—"and they can kiss if they want to." My mom smiles over at us, seeming completely calm about everything. My dad nods in agreement, though more hesitant than my mom.

Jon looks back and forth between my parents and me and Jace, completely at a loss. "But—they just—I mean…"

My dad paces a hand on his arm, stopping his sputtering. He says, "They've been dating for—what? Two years? You shouldn't be so surprised, Jon…"

I stare at him. We haven't been dating for _two years_… What the hell..?

Seb steps toward my dad and asks, "Wait—they're dating? Since when?"

Jordan and Alec nod in agreement, looking just about as lost as Seb and Jon.

My dad glances over at Jace. "Well… You two _have_ been dating, right? That's why you're always so… mushy? I mean… right?"

I blink and glance back at Jace, whose smug smirk has been replaced with a perplexed expression. So I'm not the only one who is completely clueless. Good.

"Um… I wasn't aware we were even dating…" I mumble, still looking at Jace.

He smiles at me after a moment and says, "Well, I've been meaning to ask—you wanna date? Like, officially?"

I pause. Nod.

He grins and throws an arm around my shoulders, guiding us closer to the group. "We are now officially a couple."

_This is the weirdest day, I swear…_

After _that_ stimulating conversation, my dad finally says that the guys need to get going or else they'll miss their flight.

I hug Jace once more, he presses a kiss to the top of my head, and then he's walking toward the check-in desk with all of the guys and my dad.

Before he reaches it, I call out, "You better call me every day!" You know, just in case they forgot in the last ten minutes…

And I pretend that I don't hear Seb snicker and say, "You've been official for a total of, like, five minutes, dude, and she's already dragging around the old Ball and Chain. That's harsh, man."

I am proud, though, when I see Jace elbow him. _I applaud you, bestie. Boyfriend. Bestie-Boyfriend. Sigh._

When they are all checked in and ready to head over to Security, Jace waves at me. I wave back half-heartedly, biting my lip, and then they are gone.

Sigh. And so my two weeks of hell begin.

* * *

My mom and I start heading out of the airport after the guys are gone. She has an art thing that she needs to do at work, so she's just going to drop me off at The Institute. I'm okay with that—I'll have the entire apartment to myself, so I can… walk around naked? I don't know.

That's mainly what we talk about as we go down escalators and walk through the massive building—and I'm talking about her dropping me off; not me walking around nude in our apartment. That would be an interesting conversation, though…

Right as we're about to walk out the doors that to the parking lot, I see a head of blonde hair walking through the doors a little ways down from where we are. My mind immediately jumps to '_Jace!',_ and I have to remind myself that there are other people in the world with blonde hair. Besides, Jace is probably standing in a big-ass security line right about now, just waiting to walk through a metal I just saw him leave, so it can't be him. Stupid Clary.

But I still strain my neck as I walk, trying to get a look at the person. Don't try to understand my brain—it could be Jace.

You know, if Jace's hair went down to his ass and he wore slutty outfits. But it _could_ be Jace.

I start to turn my head away, scolding myself for being a dumbass, but right as I walk through the doors of the airport I catch a glimpse of the slutty blonde's face. I almost trip on air, but manage to catch myself before I face-plant.

Time slows down, every movement in slow-motion.

Slutty Blonde turns her head and her eyes meet mine as I slowly walk through the doorway, a malicious smirk spreading over her hot-pink lips. She winks at me, and I almost lose my shit.

_What in the hell is she doing here?! She can't be here! No! Oh my god, NO!_

My mind frantically tries to come up with an explanation for why she's here, but then I see the giant suitcase she's dragging behind her. And then I see that people that are surrounding her. And I almost die.

_No…_

I walk through the doorway, half-heartedly trying to keep up with my mom. Dread makes my limbs heavy, and I find myself stumbling out of the airport and toward the parking lot. But my mind is in a haze, still trying to keep up with what I just saw.

_Kaelie. _

_God, no…_

* * *

**Well, well, well. Look who is back from the dead.**

**I'm sorry for disappearing for… two months. Yeah, that happened. Sorry. I just was not feeling this story guys—hell, I'm not even feeling this chapter right now—but I really wanted to give you guys **_**something, **_**so here you go. I've been feeling really guilty for the past however-many-weeks-it's-been, and I decided to finally sit my ass down and write this chapter for you guys. I even had to delete the first draft that I had down like seven times. This chapter hates me. Yeah. I hope you enjoyed it. :]**

**I haven't really been feeling this Clace fanfic, but I'm going to finish it for you guys. Don't worry. I just wanted to know if you guys would be interested in reading a Malec fanfic, because that's been my main focus for a while, and I think it would be fun to write one. I don't know; let me know what you think. :D**

**Stuff from Chapter:**

_**Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix—2007 **_

**TWB:**

_**The Lunar Chronicles—Marissa Meyer**_

**If you like cyborgs and fairytales, well… welcome to the fandom. :D**

**Thank you all for staying with this fic and for following, favoriting, and/or reviewing! :D**

**Cassie Clare owns her stuff; mine's mine. :)**

**Review&amp;Follow**


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